Black Star
by Temujin the Obliterator
Summary: Diffrent approach to earth in starwars During the clone wars there was a covert military division led by elite Terran contractors tasked with conducting covert operations in often hostile territory. This is story that follows this division on its journey that to the public will be blotched out with black lines. (this is an AU)
1. chapter one

**This is an experimental story. In other words, I'm going to carry it for 3-5 chapters and decide whether its a venture worth pursuing. I do not own any of the Starwars characters presented in this story. I do retain ownership over all Terrans presented in the story. Enjoy and review. **

He remembered earth in her last days. Nothing was going right nearly everyone was starving. The nukes had been a mercy kill. At least for those who'd been left on earth to die about ten percent of the population from select countries managed to evacuate on lifeboats. They left earth in search of a better home. Former CIA SAD SOG paramilitary officer Jackson Bolton referred to as Agent or Mr. Bolton wasn't sure if they had found a better home or if they'd found the same home with the same problems on a larger scale.

He road in an air speeder driven by some Twi lek taxi driver. He hadn't cared to exchange small talk with the driver it wasn't necessary. It didn't matter that he was in a different galaxy he was still in the same line of work. This time as a contractor for Republic Intelligence it was the same thing involving infiltration and intelligence work however it lacked destabilization and assassination.

The airspeeder arrived above a platform. The door swung open and Bolton stepped out dressed in black suit business casual. Tucked under his slick black jacket a pistol forty-five calibers the bullets made by terran engineers.

Once on the platform, Bolton saw two Jedi approach him in their long all-encompassing robes. He made sure his poker face was on. No emotion was displayed his face was perfectly kept to not have his mouth and eyes angle down enough to show displeasure nor raised enough to show satisfaction. Perfectly unreadable. It didn't matter that a Jedi could read him regardless he wasn't going to make it easy. After all, he was a professional for god sake he needed to look like one.

The Jedi could be described as light-skinned but overall had a charming appeal to him. Bolton had carried out assassinations against such men. He didn't wish ill intent towards the Jedi after all they had helped his people settle into this new galaxy. And he was here to do them a favor since he was an independent contractor and did not necessarily owe loyalty to Republic intel. It was ironic he had once been a vocal critic of government privatization and now he was a private government contractor.

"Mr. Bolton," The Jedi said, "My names Zey Director of republic special forces I was the one who had you contacted. Please follow me."

They moved leaving the platform and into the barracks. They passed clone squadrons clad in bright white armor. Then they entered some kind of briefing room the lights were dim the room itself was small and circular built around a holo table. The door behind them shut. The only other person in the room was an ARC trooper who stood firmly and simply studied Bolton. Bolton didn't bother to acknowledge the presence of what was Zey's sentry.

"I read your file. Both the ones in paper form from your homeworld and your work with Republic intelligence. It's very impressive."

"Thank you, Master Jedi," Bolton said with an unsettling lack of emotion behind his voice, "If I'm handed a mission I execute it with maximum efficiency or I don't return."

"A trait I can respect," Zey said, "So I must ask what do you think about the war. I want your honest unfiltered opinion. This will not be relayed to Republic Intelligence so it won't affect future contracts."

Bolton was silent at first simply standing firmly arms folded behind his back. The sharp black sunglasses concealing his eyes. Zey really wanted his unfiltered opinion.

"I think no one in the republic has a goddamn clue what they're doing," Bolton said, "I haven't seen so many fucking military errors since world war one. And at least they had the excuse of inexperience with advanced technology. The GAR is simply inept at doing its job. You are gifted the most disciplined and skilled military force you could possibly be given and you manage to get what 500,000 killed now, in a year. Frankly, the Jedi shouldn't have been gifted generalship. In fact, I think you should trade places with your doorman in the corner. And this whole war feels. I've gathered the intel to know the CIS should have won by now. Yet they sit back waiting for something as if they're a fucking cat toying with a mouse before the kill. So there you have it, master Jedi, my raw and unfiltered opinion."

The room was silent for a moment. Zey hadn't quite expected that reaction and while it was rude. Zey grinned he almost chuckled at the man's personality. He wondered if Maze who stood in the corner wanted to say something along those lines but was too loyal to do so.

"Thank you, Agent Bolton," Zey said, "Though I must ask you do you see a way to win the war and could uncover this off feeling of yours given the resources."

"Give me the budget I could topple the CIS and by extension discover the ulterior intent at the heart of this conflict. After all, I'm a terran our history is largely made of war and espionage," Bolton said, "But I'm not cheap Director."

"Accommodations can be made Mr. Bolton," Zey said, "From this moment on, your contract is with me on paper your my personal advisor. However, in all honesty, you will be my hand I will even outfit you with your own elite group of clones."

"Wait," Bolton said, "While I admit clones are skilled I must request I be allowed to bring in other assets. They will be my will essentially, carrying out operations and screening clones before they're let into this unit."

Zey found this interesting that his hand wanted hands. It concerned him a bit for he didn't want things becoming to decentralized. However, three agents was still relatively small scale.

"Do you have the men you want in mind?"

"I know precisely who I want."

**Concord down ten standard hours later**

Former Captain Wilson Taylor of the First Special Forces Operational Detachment Delta (1stSFOD) AKA Delta Force had been one of the few selected for the voyage off of the earth apart of the security forces. However, after they'd arrived through the wormhole and integrated into the republic that job was over. Meaning he was out of a job. So he became an intergalactic mercenary. It had a very nice ring to it made it sound more badass than it actually was. Currently, he was advising Mandalorian cops in proper counterterrorist tactics.

"Alright review from yesterday who remembers what CQC means?" He questioned his classroom of cops. He then pointed towards one with his hand up.

"Close Quarters Combat." The student replied.

"Good, do you remember the components as well?" Captain Wilson pressed on.

"Detailed planning, Surprise, Speed, and violence of action." The officer said.

"Very good," Wilson said and then put his hand in a jar and threw candy at the officer who caught it. Positive reinforcement was effective, "Today we are going to practice CQC which will combine all the individual skills we have worked on thus far. Half of you will play terrorist the other half counter terrorist. Then switch. I want you to both learn how the enemy would think assuming they're competent and how to handle it. So we will regroup at the shoot house."

The shoot house was a structure that Captain Wilson had constructed himself to model an embassy an obvious target for a terrorist. It was stored in a hanger with air speeders lined up. Wilson stood in his own assault gear with a baseball cap over his face American flag proudly placed I'm the center of that. He has an M1911 situated in the holster on his right.

The Mandalorian cops split into two teams. The first team moved into the mock embassy to assume defensive positions. The second team quickly strapped on mock grey assault gear one took up a shield. The rest training blaster that would immobilize the other team since both used training armor.

"Alright, you have five minutes to plan," Wilson said, "In real life, you may have days but I'm not going to stand here taking the time to simulate a siege which involves politicians trying to use diplomacy instead of just simply allowing you to do your fucking job. Five minutes do what you've got to do."

Wilson watched as they planned the officer who answered the question his name was Talos took immediate charge. He quickly told his twelve men how things would go down. Wilson was very proud of himself to have trained Talos. He quickly watched as they separated into two teams. They hit the two entrances of the mock embassy. He watched on his tablet which was hooked up to the security cameras inside. In perfect form, they gathered in assault teams the first one strapped a charge to the back door. They set off the explosion echoed throughout the hanger. They then popped several flash grenades and charged in.

The defense team thought it would be a good idea to try and take the assault team going through the front head on. Three of their members charged into the lobby right as team two used a battering ram to knock down the other entrance. Stun grenades flew into the target room and it was quickly seized. The three men up front had been dispatched fast by the assault team who lost two dudes. Not a bad first try but Wilson saw things both sides could improve on and noted that in his personal journal that was pen and paper.

"Captain," Called out his intern a young cadet, "You've got a communication from a Mr. Bolton."

Captain Taylor stopped for a second he hadn't talked to Bolton in a very long time. That man had been placed in charge of the entire American life boat's security forces. He was very cold but an overall effective leader.

"What does he want?" Questioned Taylor raising an eyebrow.

"He wouldn't tell me said it was for your ears only."

"Huh, I'll see to it after I'm finished up here."

An hour later Taylor was back in his personnel office which had a desk and a bookshelf of alphabetized books about guerrilla warfare and special operation and also the Art of war. In Taylor's opinion, everyone should have the art of war in their bookshelf. He picked activated his holo-com to call Bolton back. The man popped up in a detailed blue projection something that still made Taylor uneasy.

"Mr. Bolton I heard you called how can I help you today." He said sounding a bit like a tech support guy.

"Captain," Bolton started, "I have been assigned a very important task concerning the clone wars. A Jedi general appointed me to a high position. I want you on my staff I require your brain and skill set."

"Bolton normally I would jump at the chance at an offer from you especially since it sounds like you want me to service some fools. Which sounds quite exhilarating but I gave the Mandalorian government my word to have five brigades including one training brigade ready to execute counter-terrorist missions. And I can not leave until I have finished my work."

Captain Taylor was a man of his word if he said he'd do something he'd do it. He never lied and never fulfilled his duties halfway. These were some of the principles he was raised on and that he lived by. A man without principles was a lost man.

Bolton looked unmoved keeping that same facial expression. He always took himself so seriously. Taylor wondered if he kept that same expression no matter the situation. And if he smiled if it literally would kill him.

"I knew that you would say. That which is why I called Agent Gates to full fill your position being FBI HRT he can do your job better in training cops. I also had a contact in GIGN who talked to the Mandalorian government and they sold him and Gates your contract."

At this moment Captain Taylor wasn't sure whether he was impressed, insulted, or complimented that Bolton did this much work to recruit him. It had worked well. Seeing as he was no out of a job. Well played Bolton well played.

"Bolton you're too good at your job. It's alarming at how good you are at it." Taylor said.

Bolton cut the communication abruptly. Not so much as a good by. He'd only left Captain Wilson Taylor one choice. The former Delta force operator sighed and began packing up his desk.

Coruscant underground five hours later

Viktor Starikov former Captain in the Russian FSB Spetsnaz Alpha group was no longer an FSB operator or even working for the Russians. Or even on earth. Now he a bounty hunter and not a well respected one.

He stood outside the house of one of his targets it was a black sun job. He was tasked to send a message to a rival gang. In his hands, a heavy blaster pistol pointed downwards.

He knew five men were inside. So he would breach and move carefully having nobody to cover his back.

Starikov was quick he strapped a detonator to the door. He moved to the side as it went off blowing it clean off of its hinges. He charged in his eyes lined up with the sights of the blaster pistol both hands gripped around it. Two men were in a frenzy going for their blaster pistols.

Starikov knew he was better. Not just because of the genetic enhancements every nation gave to Special Ops soldiers during the war. But even before that, he was the top man in Alpha. Before that he'd already achieved fifty confirmed kills. He stopped counting after the enhancements. There was no point.

Starikov's trigger finger was fast three bolts went off one blowing the head of a rodian who's hand on his holster away. The other three shots struck a human who was reaching under a coach for his blaster. He was thrown to the ground smoke rising from his wounds.

Starikov placed his back against a wall near the entrance into a hallway. He heard men shouting and the electric hum of a blaster charging up. He raised held the blaster in one hand and went still. Two men sprinted out of the hall both holding carbines.

Starikov moved the blaster barrel went point blank to the head if a Weequay. He fashioned a smile and pulled the trigger the blue bolt consumed the aliens head. It was then completely vaporized. The other man tried to turn but was shot twice in the side instead.

Starikov raised the blaster back in proper breaching form. He looked down the hallway. The smell of charred flesh filled the room with its twisted aroma.

Killing exhilarated Starikov enjoyed the thrill of the adrenaline flowed through his veins. His Senses were heightened. He could hear the sound of a man breathing heavily he was beginning to panic.

He turned to a door on the right and pressed a button on the door it swooshed open. The former Alpha group Captain moved with the blaster pistol looking around a room. On the other side of the bed was a man acting like a boy.

"Please, I can pay you whatever you want this isn't necessary." He said his arms stretched out pleading.

"Unfortunately, it is. We all make choices you, for instance, chose to steal from the black sun. Bad choice. This is what happens."

Viktor pulled the trigger the blaster bolt reflected in his eyes. The man hit the ground smoke rising from under his body.

Hours later Viktor was at a bar his contract full filled. He earned a total of fifty dollars since he owed money to the black sun so 90% of his earnings were taken until his debt was paid.

"Another!" He shouted as he slammed the cup on the table.

So another came down. Viktor chugged that one as well. Five cups of the alien ale later Viktor was found himself laughing historically at every single joke said. And then singing the Russian national anthem.

Things became fuzzy and ended up crashed on the cold hard floor of his apartment among a huge mess of scattered blasters, data pads, and cans. And there Viktor stayed.

He awoke and rubbed his forehead. He didn't even need to check his wallet to know there was no money. It had all been spent every last credit.

Viktor rubbed his head and yawned. It wasn't the wildest night. There was the time he woke up with a senator in his bed he'd never say which. Then some Twi Lek girl in another room. Somehow neither one had known the other was also there. Viktor was so hammered he'd forgotten how he pulled that off. Though he was proud of himself for somehow pulling it off while drunk it didn't change the fact of awkward and tense mourning. So this mourning wasn't so bad.

Three loud knocks banged against his door. Viktor snapped immediately reaching for his blaster which was no longer in its holster. Damn it was one of those days.

"Viktor Starikov I have been standing here for three hours. I know you're in there. I have my ways. Open the door now!" It was a very demanding voice.

However, Starikov recognized it as he approached the door. He pressed the button the door swing open.

"Mr. Bolton, it's quite early for you to be knocking on peoples doors," Starikov said with the brightest smile he could muster.

The stench of alcohol exhumed from Viktor's mouth. Bolton in his sharp suit and sunglasses seemed to not notice. He pulled his leave up looking at his watch.

"It is twelve O'clock Captain Starikov. Therefore it is a bit late to be knocking on peoples doors, " Said Bolton, "Besides the point, we've wasted enough time. Grab your things we've got work to do."

Bolton met Starikov on the colony of Terra prime all the lifeboats agreed to start a new life with no borders to divide humanity. However, the trade federation wanted Terra primes resources and used pirates and mercenaries to try and drive the terrans away before sending a droid army. Starikov and Bolton had worked hand in hand to fight in what was called the Federation wars. Using dirty tactics. They had mutual respect for the other's willingness to commit acts of moral ambiguity in order to win. Ends justify the means kind of thing.

"Wow, hold your horses cowboy," Viktor said referring to all Americans as cowboy, "I have a different life now. You can't just say Viktor let's kill some people and then expect me to blindly follow you."

"Captain Starikov do as I say till the end of the clone wars. I'll pay your debt off to black sun off in its entirety."

Starikov shifted immediately. He formed up as straight as an exclamation point. Then firmly brought his hand up to his head in a salute.

"Captain Viktor Starikov here and ready to blindly follow orders."

Wilson Taylor arrived at the clone barracks out front at roughly one pm. He had a large duffle bag that carried his personal weaponry. He knew Bolton would provide everything else. He stood their still in his tactical assault gear the baseball cap with the American flag cast a shadow over his blue eyes and well-kept face.

On his leg, he had his pistol holstered. He was looking around for Bolton. Instead, he saw an ARC trooper with red stripes and a red pauldron approach him. He'd seen them on the news before.

"Captain Taylor?" He said.

"You've got the right guy." Captain Wilson Taylor replied.

"Follow me."

They moved through the clone barracks into what Wilson Taylor assumed was a briefing room. It currently had the lights flipped on making it bright. And there he saw Viktor Starikov hands behind his head as and feet up on the holo table in a position Wilson knew was much too relaxed. Wilson resented the man as he sat there with his messy in groomed blond hair and poorly civilian clothing that looked unwashed. He even had the musty odor of alcohol rising from him. This man was not a soldier. He lacked discipline and decency.

"Captain Starikov," Wilson said, "I wasn't aware Bolton brought you into this as well."

"Then you'd be a fool. It's obvious Bolton requires skilled personnel. And I was the top operator on Alpha. The best special ops unit."

Wilson wanted to start something. His being felt the need to say something along the lines of tell that to the five I killed in Ukraine.

"Point made." He replied.

It wasn't worth a fight. If there was something Wilson Taylor knew it was to pick your battles wisely. He knew Bolton was going to force them to work together. Despite his displeasure of working with this mess called an operator he knew if expressed that there would be unnecessary tension between them during an op. And it was hard for both of them to work together after the war. Made easier by the Federation war but still uneasy for Wilson. He remembered killing the five Alpha group operators. He hadn't found it entirely fair he'd already been administered the enhancements. It was anti-fatigue serum. Essentially the user was immune to most forms of fatigue. The Alpha Operators weren't. It was a great advantage since they hadn't known the US was equipping SOCOM units with the advanced treatment. But he felt bad for killing them in the way he had. At the moment he hadn't but seeing how things turned out he now dud. Up in space, it compensated for primal technology. But still, he couldn't help but wonder if Starikov was ok with working with his former longtime enemy. Both sides could be blamed for the Armageddon that ensued but it wasn't surprising for survivors to be a little bias to their own.

The door to the briefing room opened yet again and Agent Jackson Bolton entered. Still in his black business suit still with eyes concealed behind sunglasses. And still with his expressionless look. Next to him a Jedi master.

Starikov took his feet off the table and turned to get a better look at the Jedi. He was still seated and leaned back against the chair. Taylor stood straight as a spear and saluted.

"Gentlemen, I find introductions useless we're going to get right to it, " Bolton said, "Next to me is Jedi Master Arligan Zey. Director of republic special operations. And like most others, he is inexperienced in the job he has been assigned. He will brief you on the details of the war. We are here to help."

"Right, " Zey said caught a bit off guard, "It should come as no surprise senior analyst in Republic intelligence believe we will lose the war. This will leave a fractured unstable galaxy. We are hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned. The CIS believes it also has superior leaders. They don't know about this group. Essentially I'll present you with a goal or problem and you will help find a solution and execute that solution. Problem one we don't have the numbers. How we solve that."

"Well, " Taylor said, "There was once a man named Alexander the great. He was severely outnumbered by a powerful military force under a competent military commander on two instances. You know how he won?"

"How?" Questioned Zey.

"Created a gap and went straight for the leader. This caused the whole enemy army to go into a rout. In the chaos of the retreat, Alexander achieved victory, " Taylor continued, "Droids are nothing without there leadership. Conducting a galactic war is a rather difficult task for a single leader no matter how competent he can't be everywhere at once. I propose we draw up a list of CIS leaders and we kill them one by one."

"I like the way you think, " Starikov jumped in, "But it's only part of the problem. The CIS has cash. Cash they can use to higher new generals. We need to target their cash by sabotaging their industry. We target politicians to throw worlds into chaos. We used scorched earth tactics on their civilians to hurt their supply lines. We can then squeeze the CIS until they snap."

"Captain Starikov, " Zey said, "What happens to the livelihoods of those farmers and citizens after we destabilize their political systems and destroy their industry."

"Master Jedi it is not of our concern, " Viktor Starikov said, "If they didn't want these things to happen then they shouldn't have succeeded."

"Starikov, " Wilson jumped in unable to contain himself, "If we do these things we create more problems down the world. They will learn to resent the republic and launch attacks long after the clone wars ends even if there is no droid army."

"Taylor, " Viktor said, "These separatists need to be punished. They have no sense of Republic law. That is why they succeeded they lack fear of the government. It is only showing that the republic will use a firm stick to beat descent back into submission will you guarantee compliance."

Wilson remembered Afghanistan and Iraq and what a mess it had been. Overthrowing a regime and using military force to implement a different one didn't work on a planetary level. He was not here to make the same mistakes twice.

"No, " Zey jumped in, "I will not condone intentional harm towards civilians. Find another way to deny supplies to the separatists. I will approve such actions to their military leaders because they have taken up arms against the republic."

"They did so because their civilians supported it. They are just as much to blame."

"No Captain that is incorrect, " Mr. Bolton said nodding his head, "The corruption and weakness of the republic are what lead us here. I am for efficient military policy. Your policy breads endless wars and descent. Therefore it's inefficient. Certain political individuals like Count Dooku should be assassinated. But the complete destabilization of a world and then brutalizing that world is an endeavor that creates more enemies. I as well will not condone it."

Starikov leaned back. They were all fools if the republic was going to survive it needed to know when to be ruthless. He wasn't seeking an authoritative regime but showing mercy to traitors was how one created more traitors. He knew fear was a necessary tool. If the Americans had used more fear in their policy the war on terror wouldn't have gone on forever.

"Fine, " Starikov said, "The longer this last the longer I'm employed. And it seems it shall indeed be a stable job."

Wilson Taylor wanted fo sock Starikov right in his pretty face. He wanted to do it until the man was turned purple with bruises. But not enough to kill him. Just enough to scar him for life. He was not a soldier, not a proper one. A good soldier protected an upheld the principles of his nation above his own. Starikov only had self-interest.

But Wilson, in reality, did absolutely nothing. It simply wasn't worth it. Especially when there was still the overall war to plan.

"Alright, any other tasks we should discuss?" Wilson questioned shifting the conversation.

"Yes, " Bolton started, "While you two are skilled individuals you lack the ability to properly enact all policy. We have clones highly disciplined warriors. I want you to form an advanced tactical unit from them."

"I can acquire files and set up interviews upon request." Said Zey.

Wilson heard advanced tactical unit and his mind jumped. He knew they would need a certain breed of men. And there was only one way to get that.

"We need to draw up a selection process, " Wilson said, "One that'll separate the boys from the men."

"Finally something we agree on, " Starikov said, "I suggest we merge Alpha, Delta, DEVGRU, and SAS standards to form the ultimate test."

"No, " Said Wilson catching everyone off guard, "It's not a proper test. I've seen Commandos and ARCs on the news. Commandos would kill DEVGRU selection but not Delta selection. ARCs are just the opposite. See our selections test skills developed in the separate branches. So DEVGRU gets the best SEALs and Delta gets the best light infantry. The whole point of selection is to get mentally strong individuals. If we're going to get the best clones we need to see how they work. Then we can create a selection process to properly get good candidates for the tac units. Also to see what skills we will have to teach in the training process."

Bolton had selected Wilson because of the man's experience in passing and failing selection. He had passed air assault school passed Special Forces Qualification becoming a beret. Then graduated ranger school then tried out for the SEALs. He failed. Tried becoming a combat controller and failed. Then went back to the berets. Did that for a while got invites to Delta tryouts and passed. He'd also been an instructor on numerous occasions passing and failing a wide variety of people. He knew just how to find the guy he wanted and make him better. Whereas Viktor had been in GRU and Alpha not undergoing the exact same journey.

"And how, Captain, how would you execute this task?" Said Bolton.

Captain Taylor crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He formed an answer the second he proposed the idea.

"It's simple really, " Wilson said, "Send me in to combat with the clones."

Bolton raised an eyebrow if Starikov had been drinking he would have spit it right out. Zey's became wide.

"It's a bit risky Captain you could be killed." Said Zey.

"Well wasn't the intention to have us go in and perform tasks that could get us killed anyways," Wilson replied.

"Yes, but on missions of importance," Bolton said.

"And ensuring our tactical teams maximum efficiency to perform delicate and important tasks is not of any importance?" Said Wilson batting an eye.

"Bolton, I'll watch the cowboys back. Send us both in and you'll increase his odds of survival." Viktor replied leaning forward.

"And if you're both killed?" Zey questioned.

"Then, I'll simply have to replace them with other operators, " Bolton replied, "Being the best for the job doesn't mean your the only one who can perform the task. However, if you're going you're not going without medical that would be stupid."

"You're going to need a medic that can keep up." Said Viktor, "And one who can work fast and efficiently while bullets are flying."

"I suggest either a SARC or pararescuemen. There's four in existence. Two are retired." Suggested Wilson.

"Of course you'd suggest other Americans," Viktor said.

"You have better guys in mind."

Viktor was silent and that was the only answer needed. Bolton nodded.

"I'll find these men. And you'll be deployed in the tomorrow." Bolton said.

"I'll arrange a team of clones I take it you want special operations?" Zey questioned.

"Hook us up with a continent of ARCs and Commandos." Said Captain Taylor, "Preferably ones about to be deployed."

"I'll find my best," Zey said after he nodded.

**As stated before this is an experimental story. So your questions, comments, and concerns are appreciated in the decision process. Being whether this project moves forward or not. **


	2. chapter 2

One armored durasteel plate tucked firmly into a holder over his chest with another in a different holder on his back. The back plate was covered up by a military backpack. His head secured within a carbon fiber helmet. A flashlight strapped to the side of it. A best wrapped over the chest plate with pockets to hold equipment. His feet in tight boots with laces properly tied and tucked away. Then a balaclava over his face that was currently pulled down. An M1911 firmly positioned on his right leg in a holster and a knife on his other leg in a sheath. Grenades dangled from his belt and an HK416 carbine hung from his chest hooked up to a shoulder strap.

Former Delta Force Captain Wilson Taylor was prepared for war. He made his way towards the hanger making sure his earpiece was working and stayed with the commentator on his gauntlet over his right arm.

"Test, test, One, two, three. This is Captain Wilson Taylor making sure the earpiece and mic are functioning correctly over."

Viktor Starikov simply threw on a grey jacket some good shoes with the earpiece tucked in. He had a small backpack that held basic things like food. He kept his balaclava in his hand. And had a Westar m5 blaster carbine slung over his shoulder.

"What, I can't quite hear you." Said Viktor. His facial expression was the opposite of his tone being a mischievous grin.

"I said test-"

"Can it cowboy I can hear loud and clear, " Viktor said laughing in between breaths, "I was just fucking with you."

Wilson shook his head in disappointment as he listened to the Russian operative laugh.

Both men met in the hanger of the clone barracks coming from two separate ends. Wilson scanned Viktor's outfit. He was surprised by the man's choices especially the fact he had no protective gear.

"Viktor, I see you've perfected the merc look," Wilson commented.

Most private military contractors wore similar styles of gear to Viktor. This was due to tight budgets or nature of their work.

"I thought delta operator's preferred civilian wear," Viktor said.

"When the objective is to blend in with a civilian populist, " Wilson said, "We ware whatever it takes to complete the operations. In this case, I find assault gear is preferable."

"To each his own." Said Viktor shrugging his shoulders.

It as at a republic shuttle Mr. Jackson Bolton stood still in his suit and black sunglasses and unremarkable facial expression. To his right one, SARC named Joel Smith who stood in standard military gear. He carried his medical supplies in his backpack. But more notably was his choice in rifle he was a medic designated to provide emergency support to battlefield injuries. An M4 was all he needed. But instead, he'd picked an HK417. Unlike Wilson's 416 the 417 was semi-automatic and fired 7.62 by 51-millimeter rounds. Not to mention only armor piercing addition of any weapon were used these days the kickback was strong even with genetic enhancements. Meaning this man was skilled at controlling it and maintaining his own breathing to accurately place a bullet right where it needed to go. This man was a sharpshooter a sniper as well as a medic. And the way he cradled the rifle suggested that was a fact he was proud of. To Bolton's right stood pararescuemen Michael Gabriels he wore military standard for his uniform the only difference was the addition of plastoid armor on his chest and back. It was painted the same green tan of US military gear. He held the same Scar h he'd been issued on earth. He hadn't changed a thing about it. The gun was good enough for the job perhaps even to fancy.

"Taylor, Starikov," Bolton said, "Meet Joel Smith and Michael Gabriels they're your medics. Any questions regarding their qualifications they're professionals they'll answer accordingly."

"It's nothing to do with their qualifications," Starikov said interrupting Bolton, "But the one to right Smith I'm assuming. He's packing quite the piece. Seems a bit much for a medic."

"Mr. Starikov if I am to provide you medical support I have to accompany you on the operation. Which means I must be just as effective at combat. And I excel at whatever it is I do. So worry not Captain I'll stitch you up and make sure the enemy can't be." Proclaimed Joel proudly.

"If that's all save any other questions for later," Said Bolton, "You are scheduled to meet up with a task force assembled to launch raids on separatist defensive positions on Felucia ahead of the invasion. Upon your arrival, the Commandos and ARCs are being informed of your presence and not to disclose that information to others. Still, I must insist you keep your identity secret and only use code names. You will also split into two groups one will accompany Delta Squad a republic commando outfit and the other Team 7 a contingent of ARC troopers."

"What are our code names?" Questioned Gabriels.

"Figure it out," Said Bolton, "Coordinates are already set in the shuttle. I look forward to your mission report."

Bolton stood off to the side as the four men walked towards the shuttle. The cargo bay door opened up a staircase leading towards the back. Steam rising from the exhaust ports.

Starikov learned how to pilot starships as soon as he'd discovered it was a thing. It was an absolutely critical skill in this galaxy. He jumped in the cockpit and got a look at the controls.

Everyone else gathered in the passenger bay behind the cockpit. Starikov left the door open so he could listen.

"We all need code names. I say let's keep it simple I'm Delta, Starikov you're Alpha, Joel you're SARC, and Gabriel you're Para." Suggested Wilson.

"So, you admit I'm the Alpha male of this group then." Said Starikov.

"Alright, Starikov your code names Spets now." Said Wilson.

It was obvious to everyone Spets was just short for Spetsnaz. It was also obvious it was intentionally lame. Who the hell wanted to be called Spets sounded close to spits.

"Fuck you, Taylor, " Said Starikov.

Wilson Taylor grinned. It gave him pleasure he was able to deal Starikov even the slightest amount of injury.

*

Republic Commando Sergeant 1138 referred to as 'Boss' by his subordinates had lead his four-man republic commando team one twenty missions since the start of the clone wars. And they were twenty successful mission never once having lost a man and always completing the mission objective no matter the task.

The campaigns on Felucia were about to begin. Three corps of infantry were preparing for the land assault. Before that could go down the Jedi General leading the strike had requested Special Forces to go in behind enemy lines and neutralize several airfields and artillery positions. This would make the ground assault easier. It was a suicide mission to throw guys behind enemy lines with no air support or any support of any kind. More so commando raids went best when the element of surprise was on their side. Some ARF troopers had botched that up getting themselves killed during a reconnaissance operation. The enemy was expecting. To further complicate things they were informed private contractors were coming along to survey them.

"Don't botch this one Deltas the Jedi are actually watching for once," Boss told his squad while they were still in the bustling hanger of a venator, "After all we wouldn't want them to think less of us."

"Boss, are they serious about these contractors," Scorch in his armor with the loud purple and yellow stripes streaming a crossed it started, "Honestly missions tough enough without a bunch of tourists tagging along."

"It was never mandated they come back," Sev their sniper said, "If they get themselves killed it's not our fault."

Sev's armor had red splattered aggressively on certain areas of his armor appearing to look like blood spots.

"Their contractors," Fixer jumped in, "Like the training sergeants on Kamino. They, at last, know what they're getting into. I doubt the Jedi would send inexperienced personnel on ban op like this."

Fixer was their tech sergeant so to speak. Tech corporal was a better definition if you wanted to be exact about the rank. And Fixer was the type of soldier to be precise about that kind of thing. He had his armor painted with organized green stripes and green was the color for a corporal in the Republic military.

"Fixer is correct," Said Boss, "Their sending mercenaries who were former soldiers in Terran Spec Ops."

"That primitive bunch," Scorch said practically laughing, "What Mandalorians up their rates."

A republic shuttle entered the hanger catching everyone's attention. They watched as the wings folded up in a v and the landing gear shot out. Smoke shot from the ports as the engine began to calm down. Then the cargo bay door lowered more smoke billowing out. Four figures emerged from it. Boss took immediate note.

The one who led the group held a black rifle Boss had to admit looked primitive. He was clad in all the things you would expect from a soldier and had a black mask pulled down over his face. The man behind him carried a blaster carbine but that was the only thing military about him. He stuck out from the rest of group since the other two followed the motto set by the man in front. But this man with the blaster wore a grey jacket and not a combat jacket at that and a cap and not even military fatigue. He leaned back yawning as the group turned to face Delta squad. The lead one took out his datapad stared down at it like a delivery boy before staring back at Boss.

"Delta squad?" Said He.

"Present." Said Boss.

"Oddly enough you are to refer to me as Delta," Said the man, "We're the contractors that'll be joining you today. Or at least well two of my other associates will be running with a group of ARC troopers."

Wilson Taylor couldn't help but feel a bit like a DMV drive test surveyor. They he had said it and how he held the datapad like a clipboard. He was glad to know the microphone in his balaclava was functioning concerned his voice would become muffled and hard to make out.

He subtly nodded to Starikov who simply turned right and strolled off like they were at some kind of city park. Joel went with him. Wilson paid them no mind but was honestly glad he wasn't going to have to deal with Starikov today.

"You boys got names?" Asked Taylor.

"RC 113-"

"No," Taylor said sharply, "I'm not going to shout One One three followed by whatever in the middle of a battlefield. You're a soldier and soldiers got a name its what separates us from droids."

Boss hadn't quite expected that even their handler referred to them by numbers. But then again this was a man who'd seen enough combat to form a distaste for dehumanizing the guys fighting.

"The squad calls me Boss," He said, "The kaminoans didn't give us real names. And with all due respect do you have any other moniker besides Delta? I often refer to one of my men as Delta."

"Right," Said Taylor, "Call me Ace then."

"Alright, Ace," Said Boss, "The man in the reds our sniper hius names Sev. The man in the purples named Scorch our explosives expert. Our tech guys in the green we call him Fixer."

Taylor was quick to remember that associating colors with names. While he wasn't to big a fan of the idea of colorful military armor it was effective identification.

"Duly noted Boss," Said Taylor, "My comrades named Para. He's acting as our medic-."

"What do you mean acting is normally not a medic?" Said Scorch who got a look from Boss, "I'm genuinely interested."

"I'm what's referred to as pararescuemen," Said Gabriels, "When something goes wrong like commandos effing up a job or a helicopter getting shot down in hostile territory we go in to extract and provide medical care to the wounded. Often we run in with say a spec ops task force to provide on-sight medical care"

Taylor shot him a look raising an eyebrow forming a crease in the balaclava. Technically speaking that wasn't classified information but, they were supposed to keep information regarding themselves on the down low.

"If one of us is injured would you-" Began Scorch.

"Without hesitation, our motto is so that others may live. However, if I'm forced to prioritize then it's Ta- I mean Del- I mean Ace damn it."

Now, Taylor, had both eyes locked on Gabriels. The man clearly had been on a lot of clandestine type operations that required to give the ability to deny involvement seeing a slip of the tongue almost happened. However, his record, however, was impeccable he'd saved more lives then Taylor had probably taken. And that got him enough respect that Taylor wouldn't bring this up later.

Starikov's destination was marked for the other side of the hanger. He walked through and watched as clones were prepping their equipment action. Technicians were hooking up fuel lines to LAAT gunships or ATTEs. Others were packing rockets into the launchers. Some were running system checks with one guy standing out front another in the cockpit giving a thumbs up to show the ship was functional. Commandos and ARCs were going over plans with their squadrons like football teams before the start of a game. He watched as one squad of republic commandos clad in black armor gathered as their leader briefed them.

"Alright, Omega we've had a good run let's keep it up. We haven't lost a single man yet let's not start."

That bit reminded him of his old Alpha team. They used to be glad in dark gear and go on high risk clandestine or commando-style missions during numerous wars. He remembered his six men. Gregori, Sokolov, Vasiliev, Mikhailov, Petrov, and Ivanov young Ivanov. They were his boys and he took good care of them. Always got them back home to their wives and families. And they always got the mission done. Starikov would move heaven and hell for them. He smiled at their memory. Then he stopped smiling as he thought about more and stared at the ground.

"Starikov," Said Joel, "Something wrong?"

Starikov realized his emotions were beginning to show. He quickly turned frown back into a smile and laughed a bit.

"Nothing wrong at all but your concern is appreciated, comrade," Said Starikov, "Run ahead of me I've got to take a leak."

"Wait, seriously?" Said Joel raising an eyebrow.

"Yea, seriously I could always go later, of course, I can tolerate the smell of urine."

"Jesus, I didn't need nor want detail just go."

Starikov slipped away down a corridor. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. He leaned against the white walls as he removed his back. He pulled the zipper back and reached inside pulling out a glass bottle of vodka. It was 80 proof for most downing a whole bottle was a death sentence before a mission. Starikov could recover in an hour with his genetic enhancements. So rather than continue you the thoughts about his old squad he popped open the cap and guzzled down the bottle.

*

Advanced Recon Commandos or ARC troopers as they were commonly referred to were the pinnacle of the GAR for a grunt. That's the answer Alpha 17 would give you. He was an Alpha-class Arc trooper. The best of the best his physical abilities were beyond that of any other trooper in the Republic military. His reflex could keep up with a Jedi's. Sure republic commandos were good at infiltration and direct action type missions but Alpha class arc troopers excelled at everything. And could work independently they didn't necessarily need a squad backing them all the time.

However, the Alpha bloodline was growing thin so Alpha 17 had brought in more recruits to be second generation arcs. They were meant to be the bridge between conventional and unconventional Republic forces. Most he had deployed around the galaxy as Marshall commanders. But he kept a select few apart of his own team.

"Fordo, " Alpha 17 said to Alpha 77 who was working with him on today's op, "These Terran contractors sure do know how to take their time. I thought they were told to meet us here in hangar bay 13."

Fordo didn't talk much. He simply sat there rubbing the barrel of his blaster with a towel polishing it getting it to shine. The two ARCs hadn't worked together before but had indeed heard stories about one another.

Fordo said nothing simply extended one of his fingers towards Alpha's east. Alpha turned to see one man approaching. He carried a very big black rustic looking rifle.

"That a kriffing slug slinger," Alpha said as if he'd never seen one before.

"This team 7?" Questioned the Terran.

"It is." Said Alpha his arms crossed, "Aren't there supposed to be two of you?"

As if he'd said some magical word the other one appeared sprinting up from behind. He had a blaster. Finally something logical. Alpha thought go himself.

"Viktor Starikov, " The Terran said extending his hand out in front of him.

Joel took in a few gulps air through his nose. He could smell the thick and heavy aroma of alcohol exude from Starikov's mouth. He was also annoyed Starikov had used his actual name opposed to his code name.

"Refer to me as Alpha my compatriot here is called Fordo. He doesn't seem to talk at all."

"Two guys your whole team or are there more," Starikov said immediately.

"Right to the point then, " Alpha said, "Alright boys introduce yourselves."

Quickly four other men appeared from around the gunship. They all had the standard ARC look with blue, yellow, or red stripes and colored pauldrons. Though they were built smaller than Alpha and Fordo. Starikov knew immediately those clones must be genetically modified.

"Names Ranger, " Said one who was packing a rotary cannon on his back, "Teams heavy gunner."

"They call me Six." Said one who carried a modified DC17. The barrel was replaced with one from a sniper and the grip was replaced with a square magazine that held the charge packs. It also had a modified stock and shoulder strap, "There's not that much to me. Give me orders I'll figure out the rest later."

"Names Shock. Don't ask why it just is." Said one packed simply a DC17S carbine.

"CT-7567, I haven't earned my name yet. I intend to do so today seeing as I'm being assigned to a command position over a separate legion."Said one who packed two DC15 pistols and a carbine.

Starikov found their choice of attire a little off-putting even a bit humorous. Their colors reminded him more of power rangers then elite spec ops operators. And the skirts were kind if spartan esk and while it didn't hamper anything it certainly was adding to anything but fashion. These were fancy boys.

"Names Sarc, " Joel said not to be left out, "If any needs stitching up I'm your guy. Though if you piss me off you'll find that I may have gotten hearing damage from a shell and I simply can not hear your cries for help."

"Ya know we might actually get along pretty well." Said Alpha, "Operations in forty cycles. Do as you please."

"I'm pretty sure me and Starikov are perfectly right here. Right?"

The way Joel had said it had a hint of anger. Starikov could see it in the man's eyes. What there was to be angry about he wasn't sure. After all, Starikov would be perfectly fine by the time the LAAT took off.

"Sure," Starikov replied.

*

Back on Coruscant grey clouds swarmed over the sky of the GAR's special operations barracks. Jackson Bolton moved into his new office space which was complete with one computer and a desk. All he had requested. It was simple Bolton preferred to keep things that way.

Positioned right behind the chair of the desk however that on a good day would let just enough sunlight in to make it easier for Bolton to go over files. The veteran covert ops man carrying a box of personal items set it down by his desk.

He reached down first grabbing an MP5K submachine gun. It was small but deadly. He withdrew it and knelt under his desk. He had a slot installed under it to conceal the weapon. He then rose opening the cabinets of the desk. He placed his datapad on the left and on the right would go a loaded Glock. After that was down he took out one last item his only personal item.

It was a photograph propped in a black frame. He placed it so the image faced him directly. The eyes of the people in the image on him. It was two soldiers in military fatigues with faces as bright as a star together with a small cabin wood cabin in the background.

Bolton then got right to work opening up the computer. He had plenty of files to go through.

Before he could do that the door to his office opened. Zey stood in Jedi robes to meet Bolton's rather unamused face.

"Mr. Bolton your men are in position, " Zey said, "It should also be noted I was able to move all your files over from republic intelligence."

"Is there something specific you require at the moment Master Jedi?" Asked Bolton.

"No, I was about to ask is there anything else you require?"

Bolton folded his hands as he stared up. He sighed as he thought.

"I need a room for ten men. In my opinion, the tactical group would be much more efficient if they lived together."

"Easily full filled." Said Zey.

"Also I'm bringing in an analysis. I'm very good at operations. But there's certain things a skilled Analysis will pick up on I may miss."

"Added with your four contractors plus you the council is going to ask questions when they see certain funds in special operations being allocated to a vague source." Said Zey, "Not that it can't be done but I would like to keep this unit as ambiguous as possible."

"Tell them it's for a classified special forces division. Codenamed Black Stars and you don't need to give them more information than that. Just enough truth to satisfy their minds."

Zey nodded. He didn't like lying but then again he wasn't lying just not going into the details. The things that needed to get done to win a war in this era were becoming taking on a nature that didn't seem to exactly agree with the Jedi way. Perhaps the Jedi themselves needed to change.

"Alright, I'm planning a meeting with select figures under my command. That way there can be cross-communication between you and the rest of GAR special ops."

"Understood." Said Bolton.

The door shut and Bolton was left to get back to work. He did immediately bring up files on past republic special operations to study meticulously.


	3. LAAT down

The LAAT gunship was designed to transport troops into an active war zone in a quick and efficient manner. At the same time, it could provide fire support from above raining down death upon an enemy. It's looks reflected this to Wilson Taylor, it looked like an MH3 Black Hawk transport helicopter and Apache Attack helicopter got together and had a child. On top of that, it also twin rocket launchers that stretched out aggressively above the cockpit like the horns on a bull.The only thing Taylor hated about the craft and he really hated it was the fact it was painted white a very bright white. That made it stuck out worse in the air, than the big red dot on the Japanese flag. Sure it wasn't exactly a stealth craft anyways but, the color added to Taylor's concern about being blown out of sky. He wasn't a pilot but he knew the boys in 106th SOAR would've raised a serious objection if the Army wanted to repaint their helicopters bright white.

He stood inside one holding onto a line like a world war two paratrooper right behind Republic Commando Boss. They had since synced communicators to better communicate tactics.

"Ace, when you were a Terran Soldier and not a contractor did they often send you on missions like this one?" Asked Boss.

"As much as I'd like to I'm not at liberty to disclose any details of past operations." Said Wilson.

While it was certainly understandable Boss wasn't entirely comfortable with going into a war zone with someone he knew absolutely nothing about. He needed to ask a question that wouldn't have an answer that would be considered classified.

"Gabriel's told us he was in a unit called pararescue are you at liberty to talk about your unit?" Asked Boss.

"No, " Said Wilson, "Actually one thing that defines my old unit was the absolute lack of information we were allowed to disclose. In fact, there was a time the government wouldn't even acknowledge we existed to the public."

That gave Boss somewhat a clue at what this man did. Sergeant Vau once described missions of plausible deniability. Usually involved assassination, special reconnaissance, or other actions a nation-state couldn't acknowledge for one of many reasons. Usually, it had to do with counter-terrorism. Meaning this man would have to be exceptionally skilled at covert infiltration and direct action. Those were skills that did, in fact, apply to what they were currently doing. As for sabotage Boss knew Scorch had that covered.

"Gees is there anything about you that's not classified. Like your friend Para seems to be an open book." Said Fixer who stood right next to Boss.

"Well ya see where I come from a Spec Ops unit is either tier one or tier two. Tier one boys are black ops the nature of what we do is in the shadows so to speak. Tier two guys may need secrecy to get what they need to get done but they usually aren't assigned operations that are branded as covert. We can acknowledge their actions and activities."

"Interesting way to do it." Said Boss, "We just do whatever the tell us to do. They haven't shown distinction between operations."

"Yea, well we aren't exactly doing something that may need be denied later. I don't think any one's gonna cry over a few blown up cannons and some dead droids and possibly some dead organic mercenaries."

There was a sharp click as the pilot activated the intercom. Everyone looked as if expecting to see the pilots face.

"LZ five cycles out. Hope you boys are ready."

Everyone moved rather swiftly as they all raised their guns. Then a series of clicks popped as everyone flipped their safeties off. The lines were already prepared for the drop.

Ten cycles passed the LAAT came to halt, choosing to hover over a selected area. The doors flew open the lines flew down. Everyone in near sync slid down and made it to the ground. Taylor was quick to raise the sights of his carbine to his eye as he waved it checking for hostiles. Gabriel's came right behind him. The commandos had formed a circle of sorts to ensure the LZ was secure. The LAAT then pulled up as it corrected its course going back to the cruiser.

"Deltas move." Commanded Boss.

The commandos quickly did as told moving out covering all their flanks. Taylor and Gabriel's choosing to join them. Talk was up it was time to see what these guys were made of.

Viktor Starikov had just about recovered from the vodka as the LAAT took off. The ARCs were surprisingly silent. No pre-mission banter that Starikov enjoyed with his old team. Nor did they seem the least bit curious about him. A private contractor who was surveying their actions. Position changed Starikov would want to know as much as he could about a man who would survey him.

"ARC stands for Advanced Recon Commando no?" Said Starikov.

"That's exactly what it stands for." Said Alpha 17.

"Alright, out of curiosity how many of your missions have been specifically recon?"

"15."

"How many missions have you been on?"

"200."

Starikov raised his right eyebrow. This would have to mean 185 out 200 missions could be defined as recon. In other words, 92.5 percent of all missions were direct action type missions.

"What's the point of calling you Advanced Recon Commandos if you rarely ever do fucking Recon. Why not just advanced commandos or Advanced Raiding Commandos if the acronym has to sound cool?" Questioned Starikov.

"Don't ask me, I just point and shoot it's not my job to come with names." Said Alpha.

"I shall make note of it next time I encounter a Jedi then."

The ship came to halt. There was no speech everyone just moved as the doors flew back revealing the bright rays of the systems star bearing down on them. Starikov raised his hand to block it as the ARCs strapped cables to their belts.

"I see why they were the helmets." Said Starikov to Joel.

Then the two terran contractors came down the ropes last. They landed on very moist grassland that dug into Starikov's boots. The jungles of Felucia were visible behind them. The grass itself was tall and very moist. It must've just rained.

Alpha took lead Fordo fell in behind him as according to rank. Six and Shock sprinted up together behind them and CT-7567 sprinted right behind them with Ranger falling behind.

Starikov noticed that these boys wasted no time at all getting to work. It's what you would expect from any kind of SOF outfit. But these guys had a certain way they moved that showed their determination and displayed aggression as they sprinted with their blasters.

Alpha stopped, holding his hand back. That signaled everyone to stop. Then everyone dropped down into the tall grass. Starikov and Joel followed suit.

Two patrol droids on speeders zoomed overhead. The sound of the engine roared above.

After the speeders passed they resumed their sprint. Starikov was impressed at how fast they moved.

The trek kept up for ten minutes before they came above a hill. Below the hill two minutes away was a small airfield. Vulture droids stood on the tips of their tall legs hooked up to fuel lines. A few hyenae bombers were being loaded up as well. B1 battle droids marched in perfect sync around the airfield. B2s stood sentry with menacing metal bodies and wrist blasters . Their small heads ingrained within their chests.

"Alright, we'll attack from two ends. Six and Shock on me we'll hit east, Fordo you take Ranger and 75- ya know what you need a name." Said Alpha before allowing the raid commence, "Has to be something strong an aggressive a proper name for a clone soldier."

"Rex," Starikov suggested.

The ARCs all looked at him. Even Joel looked at him. He was a surveyor why was he giving suggestions?

"Why Rex?" Questioned Alpha.

"See on my world there were once giant creatures call Tyrannosaurus Rexes. They were the biggest, badest, creature out of all them. They killed anything they felt like killing."

"Huh, I like it. Alright CT 7567 your Rex now," Alpha said pointing at him, "Flank west with Fordo. Starikov you and Sarc on me, if you're going in I want you on me so you dont die. Otherwise I can already here command unleashing their wrath upon me for getting an expensive contractor killed."

"Sarc's a sniper he'll hang up here. But I didn't come all this say and pick out this shiny blaster to not kill something."

With that, they broke up into two teams and sprinted off in two directions. Joel went down on his stomach and focused acog around Starikov. He then moved it up to where they were sprinting to.

"Sniper with no spotter just fucking beautiful." Said Joel.

The droids never could've seen it coming. Starikov formed the biggest smile as Alpha through two thermal detonators at two B2s guarding the eastern entrance and six B1s on patrol that were just unlucky enough to be there. Two giant bright fireballs expanded consuming the droids in their entirety. They were entirely vaporized upon impact.

Six and Shock opened fire in perfect sync blue vibrantly flashing from the muzzles of their blasters. Blaster bolts of the very same color flew right towards a squad of four B1s behind the gate that had been smashed by the impact of the thermal detonators. The bolts went through their chest and faceplates causing metal fragments to fly from the bodies of the mechanical soldiers. The remnants of their metal bodies were scattered across the ground.

Alpha then brought up his Westar M5 and dove into a combat roll through the gate. He got to his knees and squeezed the trigger his blast set to burst. However, it was hard to tell seeing how he used the rifle. There was a millisecond at max between trigger pulls.

Starikov charged through the gate holding his own carbine. He picked out a pair of droids coming on Alpha's left flank. He aimed. Bang! A gunshot shouted out. The droids crashed to the ground a bullet hole through both their skulls. Starikov looked over his shoulder where Joel stared right at him through the scope of his rifle.

"Joy kill," Starikov grumbled.

He was interrupted as a chain of explosions broke from the west flank. Captain Fordo charged in first holding a single blaster pistol. He fired eight times with hius quick trigger finger the bolts splattering three B1 battle droids face plates before they could process what was happening. Ranger charged in and waved this mighty chain gun as huge squeezed the trigger the blue blaster's bolts spewed from the many barrels that spun faster than the propellers on a helicopter. More droids then Starikov could possibly count fell at Ranger's feet.

Quickly Alpha strapped charges on to fuel barrels. As soon as he was done he ran the rest of the team followed suit. Fordo saw him and drew his team out as well.

The charge went off the whole airfield went up in a huge fireball. The explosion thundered so loud Starikov thought he was going to go deaf.

Joel became worried Starikov was killed in the blast. Bolton would not be pleased if Joel messed up the only job he had given him. Relief washed over Joel as the blond Russian was seen sprinting alongside Alpha 17. Joel then got up holding his rifle in both hands ready to join them.

Everyone regrouped at the top of the hill. Starikov shot Joel a look. He lacked a smile and the way his eyes were trained on the SARC was like a scene out of a western before a man was shot down in cold blood.

"Sorry I ruined your fun Starikov. My orders were to keep you alive see."

"As much as I want to beat that smug smile off your face, " Starikov started then his frown changed to a smile, "I have to admit that was a good shot."

As they shuffled under the tall jungle trees that obscured sunlight and the humid air created a very warm and musky environment, Wilson Taylor couldn't help wonder if this was how his grandfather felt in Vietnam. Though they were doing two utterly different jobs. It was still an interesting connection with a relative no longer among the living. He ceased those thoughts knowing it was the wrong thing to think about at this moment. It had nothing to do with the current mission at hand.

Instead he turned back to the commandos. Boss the group leader had taken point. He checked every corner with his DC17M blaster carbine. Taylor noted he was very sharp. The other commandos walked only a few feet behind him, all with their carbines raised scanning every section of jungle around them.

They began to reach the end of the tree line when Boss raised his hand up in a firm first. Everyone stopped. He then opened his hand motioning down. Everyone went down to their stomachs and crawled right up to the end of the tree line.

In front of them two large separatist anti-air cannons in a small village. B1 battle droids patrolled in perfect sync. Six B2 super battle droids stood sentry near the guns as well as two Droidikas.

"Let's make this quick, " Said Boss on the com chat, "Fall on me. Scorch you'll deal with the B2s."

"Got it." Said Scorch readying his grenade launcher attachment a round placed in ready to fire.

The squad rose in perfect sync. They fired in near perfect sync. A droid patrol near their position was shot three to two times in the chest or head. They didn't even know what was coming. The commandos then moved into the village quickly. Taylor simply watched as that was what his job mandated.

Delta squad moved perfectly together passed a small hut, Boss leading the way. They moved around the corner Boss and Scorch quickly shooting out the droids to the left while Sev and Fixer shot the droids out on the right flank.

Delta squad then arrived near the center of the village. Scorch took point with the launcher opening fire. The round made contact with one of super battle droids releasing a blue explosion that sent metal shards of the six super battle droids flying. The two Droidikas began to turn having faced the wrong way.

Fixer throughout a droid popper. It went off disabling the shields of the destroyer droids. Boss and Sev quickly sent each three blaster bolts to the faceplate. More droids began to swarm towards the center of the village.

Boss pointed towards Scorch then towards artillery shells laid out. Scorch scurried over. Boss then turned his back to him as Sev changed his blasters configuration to sniper. Sev quickly placed one bolt through three droids. Fixer held the trigger on his carbine down going full auto. Boss throughout a grenade. The explosion cleared out a few and then proceeded to also go full auto.

"Done." Scorch said.

"Fall back Deltas." Said Boss.

After letting off a few more rounds and ending a few more droids, Delta squad lowered their guns and sprinted out of the village. As soon as they were back in position with Taylor, Boss took out a trigger. He pressed the button down. The village erupted into several large fireballs. The sound of the explosion roared.

The village before them had been turned to blackened rubble with neary a sign of life.

"Alright Delta's back to the extraction point." Said Boss.

Taylor was quite impressed with their performance. The speed they moved and how fluid they executed their attacks in perfect teamwork was quite impressive. Their ferocity when carrying out combat was also impressive and their ability to move silently to get to the kill. These guys were space SEALs and in CQB pretty close to Delta Force. And while certainly, they proved effective in taking out an Artillery battery you could've sent any light infantry airborne force in order to complete this job. Their skills should've been utilized elsewhere. HvT raids for instance. Right now they could be working together to assassinate a separatist general. And really impact the war. Notes Taylor would keep for later.

"Ace, get cold feet all of a sudden." Said Scorch, "Kind of wanted to see a Terran in action."

"I'm here to survey you. So, unfortunately, I have to avoid anything that would distract me from that mission."

"Well, that's no fun, " Said Scorch.

"How did we do?" Asked Boss. The Sergeant wanted to know exactly what the contractor was going to say to his Boss.

"Probably shouldn't say, " Said Wilson, "Whatever my comments may be, I wouldn't want them to affect your overall effectiveness. Criticism may dig too deep and praise may inflate your ego."

"Criticism would make us more effective. Then we could correct the error for next time."

"Alright, I found it a bit reckless after all that explosion may have tipped off nearby outposts. And as skilled in combat as you gentlemen are facing say a full armored division complete with tanks may not be in your interests."

"Out in the open, " Replied Boss, "Perhaps I've taken that into account. They'll be expecting to meet a clone legion. We use the jungle to hide and ambush the enemy at random times."

"Guerrilla tactics than. Not a bad idea. Unless of course they decide to bomb the whole forest." Said Taylor.

"They'll cease attack. Alerting us to such action by mistake, we'll move and they'll miss then we resume our harassment of the enemy force." Said Boss, "One way or another we'll kill them all."

"I like your attitude I'll tell you that much."

Omega squadron had it rough on this operation. They'd dropped in to an immediate ambush by trandoshan mercenaries. After killing the mercenaries they managed to assault and neutralize an airfield. However, more trandoshans met them on the way to extraction point. Atin their tech guy was wounded. He'd been hit by several slug rounds.

Niner the squadron leader acted quickly. Now they were sprinting towards the extraction point Fi their sniper and Darmen their demo carrying Atin. They made it.

The LAAT hovered above. It's bright lights shining proudly upon the squad clad in black armor.

Then a rocket struck the wing of the gunship. The explosion tore it off. The gunship swerved to the side in a circle. Omega squad hit the dirt as the LAAT crashed upon the ground meters away.

Niner was quick as he rolled to his back and raised his carbine grinding his teeth as he opened fire on full auto. Two Trandoshans who were closing in for attack were both struck by the rapid blue boots of energy. As soon as the sank into the woods. He stood up.

"Behind the LAAT now!" He shouted.

Omega moved quick again. The LAAT haf crashed against its side, on its good wing down in a valley. Blaster bolts flying at them Omega squad slid down a hill into the valley. Their boots crashing in the mud created by a recent flash flood.

They dashed over to the craft where one horribly wounded pilot was still alive. He saw Niner in his black Katarn armor standing over him. Niner quickly used his armored fist to break the glass. He then grabbed the pilot by his left shoulder dragging him out.

"Have you sustained any injury?" Asked Niner.

"Crashed on my right arm. Pretty sure it's broke."

"Alright, " Niner said the turned to the squad, "Place the wounded inside the LAAT quickly squad."

They did as commanded. Niner then stared back at the tree line they'd just run from. Those mercs couldn't have been far behind. He also knew command would be hesitant to send another craft. If he was going to get his squad out alive he was going to have to take a huge risk.

He pressed a button on his communicator. A ding went off in his helmet.

"This Niner Sergeant over Omega squad. Our LAAT's been shot down. I acknowledge that proves its too hot to send another. But we have sustained wounded and are in desperate need of evac asap. CIS is hot on our hides. We'll take any help we can get." Niner said over open coms for everyone to hear.

Darman and Fi looked at him. Niner new what their concerns would be.

"We didn't have any other good options. At least all our brothers know our plight." Said, Niner.

"Yea, but so does the enemy, " Said Darmen, "I'd prefer to not die in this junk heap of a world sir."

"Why so you can die in the junk heap of another world." Joked Fi.

Darmen turned to react to him. A loud bang from a slug slinger changed that. Fi took a hit in his gut crashing against the LAAT. Both Niner and Darmen turned squeezing their triggers. The shooter was drenched in blaster fire. His body turned to black with smoke rising from it as it crashed into the valley. More hostiles were moving among the trees. Darmen fired off a grenade from his launcher the explosion cleared a section of the tree line and vaporized a few other mercs.

"Fierfek!" Cursed Niner, "Of course the kriffing trained medic is the one who goes down."

The wounded Fi was also hauled into the LAAT leaving Darmen and Niner.

"With all do respect, sir, I don't think anyone's coming for us," Darmen said, "After all they'd only be putting themselves in danger. We're stuck here till the white jobs storm the place."

"In that case Dar I plan to go down fighting. I won't die till this valley is filled with bodies."

"Right behind ya sir."

He heard the communication and then stopped. The ARCs and Joel all stopped as well.

Joel stared at Starikov blankly. The man didn't look wounded. And it didn't make sense that he cared about the communication. Joel read the files on Captain Viktor Starikov, former Russian Spetsnaz Alpha group and then mercenary for a company that entitled itself Legion international. He was apart of operation viper. A Russian operation in Syria against insurgents. The UN labeled his efforts as apart of a death squad. It ended with a data leak of the operatives involved. The terrorists went after their families. Starikov was not spared his daughter ended up in the hospital his wife dead. Joel would've mourned his wife and been with his daughter if he had either. But Starikov after being put out of work goes of to join Legion international. A PMC which had committed no shortage of controversy. Starikov was a cold cruel bastard.

"Something wrong Starikov?" Joel questioned.

"That squad of clones how far off are they?" Asked Starikov.

"Omega?" Alpha questioned.

"Yeah, those guys." Said Starikov.

"Five clicks, " Rex said, "Traced the communication the second it hit."

"Doesn't sound too far." Said Starikov

"Starikov, " Said Joel, "That's a little off of five miles besides why do you care?"

"Suppose, you saw men you knew well in a similar plight. And for unexplainable reasons you didn't do anything. You couldn't do anything. But let's say years later a similar thing happens to men you dont know but those unexplainable reasons are no longer a factor what do you do."

Joel formed the most bewildered look on his face. Even squinting his eyes. Starikov was making no sense.

"I'd suppose I helped them." Replied Joel, "Is this some kind of redemption thing?"

"Point being I'm going to turn around and go do something. So I need at least a direction to sprint in."

"Hold up, You're going to help a group of commandos who just alerted the entire enemy force of their presence. They are going to be surrounded. And not only B1s but B2s, Droidikas, Commando droids, trandoshan mercenaries, and tanks. What you're talking about is a suicide mission, " Said Alpha 17, "With that being, I can not allow you to go alone."

However, the tone in which Alpha spoke suggested enthusiasm to go on this mission, not a concern. Starikov liked this type of soldier.

Joel however slowly shook his head. He didn't really like the idea of a suicide mission.

"Your kidding right. You heard this Niner we shouldn't expect evac. What are we gonna do? Jump in the fire and wait till the fire department comes by?"

"Or we kill all of them." Said Alpha.

Starikov chuckled a bit. He really had been put on the right team.

"I like your style, " Starikov said, "Besides I know for sure there's two others going in."

Wilson Taylor sprinted through the jungle Gabriels not far behind and Delta along with him. He heard a chime go off in his ear. It most likely wasn't Bolton. He pressed his hand against.

"What do you want Starikov?" Said Taylor still running and holding his rifle in one hand.

"Well cowboy you wouldn't happen to be running towards that squad would you?"

Taylor stopped causing Gabriels to do the same a long with Delta. Perhaps Starikov had information.

"Gabriels talked me into it why?"

"Well, I figured it's kind inefficient to be doing the same thing and not communicate."

"Ha!" Wilson said with a bright smile, "You of all people decided to go on a rescue mission. Tell me did you finally locate a soul?"

"I could do with out the sarcasm cowboy, how far out are you?"

"Two clicks, " Said Wilson, "You."

"Five."

"You better run like hell."


	4. Guerrilla mode

**So this is a reply to well two comments but by the same person. But with the same issue. It seems there is a bit of confusion around past events. I'll be honest I don't have everything 100% worked regarding those events and will use flashbacks later on down the road when I've got it worked. Mostly its is that a plausible chain of events to cause nuclear war. But to sum it up earth was destroyed in a nuclear war but 10% of the population of every city or country (something being debated) was saved by an organization for human preservation. Along with a security detail they traveled through a wormhole to find a new home. That is why they refer to their home as Terra Prime and not earth. That's all I'll go into for now because that's what should've been established. So if that wasn't communicated effectively let me know in the comments so when other events from the past are revealed I can do it more effectively. Sorry for the long intro without further delay here's chapter four.**

**Guerrilla mode **

Two commandos clad in armor black as night kneeled down in the mud of the Valley on the jungle world of Felucia. They kept watch over a line of fragmented trees. Niner and Darmen had been in some right positions but nothing like this.

They heard the sound of boots swashing in the mud coming from the left flank. Niner whipped his blaster carbine to the right the tip of the blaster directed right at republic commando Boss and a man in very light armor.

"Well, what do we have here, " Said Boss, "Omega squadron in yet another situation that requires the aid of Delta squad."

"Maybe we should start charging." Said Scorch.

"O shut up, " Said Niner, "One of these days the tables will turn."

Captain Wilson Taylor grinned under his mask. He found it amusing that there was somewhat of a rivalry between commando squads. Perhaps commandos were only ever deployed in groups of four allowing for this rivalry to form. That in itself was a tactical blunder it made them more predictable. You never wanted the enemy to know exactly how many men they were dealing with on special operations or what specialists they up against. Clearly, the Jedi needed a crash course in joint ops or really ops in general.

"What's with the non clones," Said Darman, "And why are they carrying slug slingers."

"The none clones, " Wilson began extending his finger towards Darmen, "Brought a medic. And this slug slinger can rip through a B2 super battle droid in three shots. So watch your tone."

"They're contractors who have the task of surveying us there names are Ace and Para, " Said Boss who then starred at the muddy and wingless LAAT on its side, "This is gonna look great for us in a report regarding our effectiveness."

"Shut up!" Niner reaffirmed.

Viktor Starikov sprinted ahead of Alpha and Fordo. Joel sprinting behind him. The Russian then dug his feet in to keep himself up as he slid down a hill towards the downed LAAT in the valley. He had a smile painted across his face.

"No need to fear, " He began shouting with vigor, "Mother Russia is here!"

Wilson Taylor was most annoyed by the Russian commandos jubilant nature as if this wasn't some dire situation in which lives were at stake. And just seeing him in his grey civilian jacket and baseball gap reminded of how Starikov was handling this assignment. He really was here for personal pleasure.

"What's the situation cowboy?" Questioned Starikov.

"Why don't you ask one of the fine gentlemen in the black armor. After all there the ones who sent out the call." Said Taylor.

"Right, " Starikov said his smile fading a bit, "Which ones in charge?"

Niner perked up directing his gaze towards the terran contractor. He very different from the other wore a grey civilian jacket, cap, and blue pants. He had a Westar m5 blaster carbine slung over his shoulder and also openly displayed his face with a welcoming smile. Come to think of it Niner had a vague memory of the same man passing by his squadron in the hanger.

"That would be me, contractor, " Said Niner unsure what rank this man technically held, "We've got three wounded in that LAAT over, two of them from slug rounds. I'm also fairly certain enemy forces are in pursuit."

Starikov moved his gaze over to the other hill across from their position. He saw sticks of trees burnt to crisp and blackened bodies scattered about. A few more bodies with smoke exuding from them rested at the bottom of the valley.

"Your guys do this?" Starikov questioned turning back to Niner.

"Yes, contractor." Said Niner, "My demo expert Darmen was the one who blew up the tree line."

"Please, call me Starikov, " Said Starikov who didn't need to see Wilson's face to know his discontent, "And very impressive. I see why they call you Omega squad. With a strong name like that you've got to pack a punch."

"See Delta we're impressive." Said Darmen.

"O don't let it get to your head." Said Boss.

Alpha 17 slid down the hill and landed right behind Starikov. The rest of the ARCs fell in quickly and raised their blasters to ensure the area was secure.

"Well, what do we have here, " Alpha started, "A bunch of commandos kriffing up the job. Well, rest assured the professionals have arrived."

"Shut up, skirt boy, " Boss hissed, "We had the situation locked down long before you arrived."

While the commandos and ARCs began bickering with one another and Taylor and Wilson began bickering over a plan Joel and Gabriels stood with their guns scanning the horizon. Joel could make out a small bronze figure moving along the burned landscape. It was carrying a black tube. Wait that's not just a black tube.

Joel took no time to wait. He swung his HK417 DMR up to his face and opened fire three times in a second. This was right as a commando droid with a rocket launcher was getting in position to fire. One of the bullets clipped off the droids finger. Another went through the faceplate causing an eruption of metal. The third went right down the tube.

The explosion echoed. And a bright orange-yellow fiery ball burst on the hill. Everyone ceased their conversation in that split second.

Six more commando droids rose from the hill like a bunch of zombies from graves. Gabriels waved his rifle as Joel opened fire again. Gabriels went full auto on his Scar H. Three of the droids were hit immediately by the hell storm of bullets. Their metal shards exploded across the field. The other three moved to try and find cover.

Wilson was quick to prevent that. He opened fire upon the hill with his 416 two bullets shredded the chest plate of one. Then four others tore apart the last two droids. Joel scanned the horizon for a few more seconds and then kept his gun up not bothering to even stare at the others.

"If you're all done comparing dick sizes, I believe it would be wise to change positions."

With that, the wounded were quickly hauled out of the LAAT lifted by two people and then two others would help carry them. Then the group was quick to sprint back up to the other side of the valley into a thick jungle tree line.

As they ran through they heard the loud hum of CIS gunships flying overhead on patrol. Wilson knew that meant they were being actively hunted and most likely were now surrounded.

"Guys, " He began everyone stopped their heads directed towards him, "If we keep running they'll eventually catch up. Or they'll cut us off and we'll end up in a live fire engagement with a full armored division. Which may include those gunships over head. The wounded will definitely die in that situation."

Starikov knew Wilson was right. He was not going to use those exact words. But at this point falling back to a marked extraction point was out of their options. "You got a solution cowboy?"

Wilson Taylor sighed. Then he folded his arms allowing his carbine to hang from his shoulders.

"We need to stall till the main force can push towards us, "Said Wilson, "The only way to do that is to get the CIS to divide their forces."

"Alright, how?" Starikov questioned.

"They have to think a larger force is present and assaulting them, " Taylor said then looked towards Boss, "The best way to do that is guerrilla tactics. A bunch of hit and runs."

"We need targets to do that," Starikov said.

Fordo who had said nothing up to this point swiftly withdrew a small circular halo projector and clicked a button on the side. A blue map of Felucia popped up. On it, every known enemy fortification and patrol route was mapped out.

"I suggest we hit their supply bases, " Said Fordo, "They'll react by naturally sending reinforcements to fortify those position. We can launch ambushes on those reinforcements. Or we could strike a few of these villages they've turned into forts. If our goal is to cause confusion. A combination of both would be best in my opinion."

"I try to start small talk says nothing, " Alpha started, "We decide to go on a suicide mission has input. Fordo you fascinate me."

Wilson got a good look at the map their location was pinpointed. Probably synced to some kind of satellite-like device. They really were smack dab in the middle of enemy territory. Meaning they had an infinite amount of directions to attack in.

"We split up into three teams. And we hit three different positions to inflict casualties and create confusion. They will move forces to those three locations then we'll reconvene as one unified group in an entirely different location."

"Sounds like you intend to create mass confusion, " Said Starikov, "Sounds fun, but risky very risky. And we only have two medics not ideal for three teams."

"Para and Sarc will remain with the three wounded to keep them alive and protect them. In fact, they will move to our rendezvous point."

Joel and Gabriels both shot concerned looks at Wilson Taylor.

"Our contract says we are to keep you alive how are we going to do that if we're nowhere near you?" Joel questioned.

"Our genetic enhancements make us more durable able to heal from most wounds. We can hold our own long enough to get back to you." Said Taylor.

"Ace, you can recover from any non fatal wound. The key word being recover. I just removed a primitive looking bullet from two clones. Bullets are more dangerous than blaster bolts for you. It clogs the healing process you won't be able to recover until the bullet is removed, " Said Joel, "And shrapnel is also hazardous, those tin cans they call soldiers are 100% shrapnel when you're bullets collide. In a CQB situation that risk is amplified. The risk is great, Bolton will absolutely lose his mind if I let you go with no medic and then you get hit."

"Look, I'm going in with Starikov at my side between the two of us. I'm confident we can keep each other alive."

"Starikov has no armor!" Said Joel as democratically as possible, "What are you going to do shoot the fucking bullets and shrapnel."

"Sarc, we have enough enhancements to dodge in a worst-case scenario. In fact, I've done before. Either do it or I'll confiscate your HK417."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Please, I'm an ex-Delta Force operator you what ran with the SEALs. I eat SEALs for breakfast."

"Fuck you, Taylor." Said Joel out of defeat.

The clones then stared at Ace realizing part of his actual name.

"Damn it, Joel, " Wilson said enraged.

There was silence the medic and the commando stared at each other. Both men having blown their code names.

"Well it clearly doesn't matter anymore and Para's a dumb name, " Gabriels began, "Michael Gabriels if anyone cares."

Everyone split up into their groups. The ARCs grouped together, however, Rex was dispatched to aid the medics. Delta squad formed the second, and the remainder of Omega grouped up with Starikov and Taylor.

The jungle seemed to grow hotter and more humid as the day went on. Wilson Taylor could feel the sweat trickling down his neck slowly at first. He thought more about his grandfather in Vietnam and his experiences. Old Lieutenant Joe as he was called by others. He'd inspired Wilson to join the army. Because while the stories he told were full of tragedy and confusion what the fucking point of that miserable war was, the tales of camaraderie and bravery were what inspired Taylor to join. His grandfather had a profound influence on his life. He'd raised him in his house after his own father had left him and his mother would've been out on the streets if it wasn't for good old Vietnam vet Joe.

If only Joe could see Wilson now shuffling through jungle trees for hours on end just to get in the right position to launch a raid upon an enemy position. He held his gun firmly in his arms believing they could be attacked at any point on time.

"Say, cowboy, " Starikov said strolling along with his blaster hung over his shoulder, "What exactly are raiding."

"If you paid more attention then you would know we're going to attack a trandoshan outpost a few miles from a CIS stronghold. Thus creating the allusion that a larger attack is headed towards that stronghold." Wilson said growing quite agitated. He'd explained the second they'd split from the rest of the group. And he went into great detail using any detail Fordo could give them transferred from ARF trooper's who'd scouted it out hours earlier.

"My apologizes when you explain things, they're just something about that makes not want to pay attention. I don't know it just doesn't sound interesting when you say it."

At this rate, Wilson might actually kill Starikov before they even saw the Trandoshans. He was getting on his last nerve. He now began to question his actual logic in teaming up with him at this moment.

"Starikov are you trying to antagonize me or did you actually decide to tune out when I was going over critical intel?" Wilson questioned.

It was an honest question. He was growing tired of whatever game Starikov was playing with him. This was a war zone lives were on the line. This was no time for games.

"If I'm being honest I can't help myself you just take yourself so seriously and not in the Bolton way where you simply lack empathy. I find you kind of snobbish." Starikov said, "If you want me to be completely honest."

Wilson stopped turning around to look Starikov right in his eyes. Niner and Darman stopped as well and Wilson knew they were confused as to why. But it was clear whatever issues Wilson and Starikov had with one another needed to get resolved now.

"Why are you bringing up these issues in the heat of a battle. Do you not understand what we are doing right now. We're at work, act like a professional and suck it up."

"Wilson is it?" said Starikov but really he didn't want a response, "If we're going to work together now and the foreseeable future then we need to be able to deal with one another beyond professional lives. To make our team stronger."

"And you figured the best way to do this was to needlessly antagonize me like it's fucking high school, " Wilson said growing more enraged, "You immature, undisciplined, careless, Russian, prick is this some kind game to you. We have been tasked with trying to win a war that could alter the course of an entire fucking galaxy and here you are acting like it's no big deal. Have you ever taken anything seriously in your damn life?"

After that, there was a brief moment of silence. The commandos scanned their surroundings worried something may have heard them.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, " Said Wilson trying to regain his composure.

"Good, now that you've expressed your points we can move on."

Starikov knew where to draw the line. He knew it would be best to stop going at Wilson for now.

The trandoshan outpost was a small two-story building surrounded by a tall electrified fence. It was positioned on top of a hill and had a combat speeder parked out front. The only entrance was through a gate positioned on the north end. Armored speeders with heavy blasters the trandoshans used were parked near the northern entrance. Six mercs stood guard at that entrance holding rustic looking blaster carbines.

Four others were broken up into pairs and patrolled around the outpost. There was no for sure way to tell how many of lizard men were on guard inside.

"Breaching from the northern entrance is dangerous and clearly they're expecting it, " Wilson began as he looked at the outpost from the end of the tree line with his binoculars, "All the other areas are blocked off by an electrified fence so climbing through would not be ideal."

"I can cut through the fencing, " Said Darman, "Corrections I can use an explosive charge to destroy the fencing."

"That'll attract a lot of attention, " Said Niner, "And there's no telling how many total mercs are housed in the outpost."

"We'll need a distraction. Two men attack the northern entrance drawing attention away while Darman sets the charge with someone covering him and then breaches." Suggested Starikov, "Both teams will then work their way through until we meet in the center."

"Sounds like a solid plan, " Said Wilson, "I take it we'll cause the distraction while the clones breach."

"Well naturally comrade."

They quickly split. Starikov and Wilson sprinted towards the northern entrance. Darman and Niner got ready to hit the southern entrance.

A guard box sat at the northern entrance where a very board Trandoshan mercenary stood. He much preferred running around through the jungles or some corridor engaging an enemy combatant it stalking prey. This guard box position was a waist of his skills.

Three gunshots rang out. The guard jolted back as a bullet flew through his heart. Bloodshot out blood also shot from his neck as another bullet flew right through and the third smashed through his head. His scales splattered on the walls behind him. Blood painted everything and brain hung on everything sticking to the blood on the walls.

Every trandoshan mercenary in the base froze no smiles hung on their faces. Two men standing by the gate saw their comrade go down. It had happened in a split second. They quickly switched the safeties off their carbines and in a frantic mode sprinted outside the gate to inspect what had happened.

Fully automatic gunfire cracked. Both men struck the ground on their stomachs blood flooding around them.

Mercenaries from behind the gate raised their shiny black blaster carbines and opened fire. Red bolts shot towards Wilson who went into a roll timing it perfectly dodging a volley of blaster bolts when they were only a few inches from him. The boots struck the grass turning into black dust. He got his knees and pulled back the trigger on his HK416. He controlled the weapon perfectly. It barely shook despite the friction created by the fully automatic gunfire. His heart was also perfectly stable so the bullets flew directly towards their intended target.

He saw three bodies on the ground. Others whipped back behind the wall seeking cover.

"Yob materi vashi!" Starikov shouted extravagantly as he sprinted wildly.

He then blazingly chucked a thermal detonator. It landed behind the hall. There were shouts of panic then a loud explosion. Wilson moved fast with the rifle still up his eye. Starikov raising his western M5 carbine back up.

More trandoshans quickly moved towards the attack. They through thermal detonators at both terran operators. Explosion broke all over the grass field yellow hot energy and black dirt shooting up into the sky around Wilson and Starikov partially obscuring their vision. It was like mortar fire but ran out faster and didn't have the same impact.

Heavy blasters were brought out. Starikov moved dodging a volley of blaster fire jumping into a roll and then getting to his knees returning fire with his carbine. The blaster bolts flying out wildly strike the heavy blaster gunner five times in the chest. The trandoshan toppled backward with smoke rising from his chest.

Wilson jumped forward once again timing it perfectly dodging a volley. The heavy gunner was left with no time to move his blaster and now down Wilson. He didn't even have time to act surprised seeing Wilson dodge the shots at the last second before he was met by two bullets one through his forehead the other through his neck. Blood splattered over the grey scaly face of the man next to him.

Trandoshans with vibro swords had used the grenades and heavy gunners as cover choosing to charge towards their foes. Their reflexes were above human as well so a knife fight would be troublesome. Three came right at Wilson who heard their footsteps. He turned his rifle to his left flank they were about a foot away. He fired the last three shots in his rifle off at the one closest to him

Wilson then brought the butt of the rifle smashing into the temple of one before the jab could even land. The blow through the lizard hard to the ground. The second man went for a jab towards Wilson's rib cage the former Delta force operator jokes back. He was quick to drop his rifle grab his own combat knife in one hand and pistol in the other. He slashed the other trandoshan right across the neck. Blood sprayed over his balaclava. The last man charged and found the barrel of a Glock right up in his face. A single gunshot cracked more blood hit Taylor and it seemed the threats had been neutralized.

Except they hadn't. In truth, Wilson had never had resort to smashing a Trandoshan in the forehead with the butt of his gun. Trandoshan skulls were a lot tougher than human skulls. And while it certainly knocked the first merc to the ground it had not killed him. A fatal mistake.

The green scaled lizard merc swung his leg under both of Wilson's. He hit the ground hard on his back causing him to lose grip on his Glock and knife. The Trandoshan mercenary wasted no time and growled as he brought a vibro knife towards Wilson's chest. Wilson stopped the blade by grabbing both of the trandoshan's arms and held the knife within an inch of Wilson's neck. So a struggle began.

The trandoshan reveal his bright sharp white teeth and long lizard snake-like tongue. His breath smelled of corpses. His eyes had a wild ferocious look that told Wilson all he needed to know about what this lizard was planning. He thought faster spring his knee into the lizard man's rib cage hard. His shin guard and genetic enhancements gave him the strength to cause the creature to cave. This happened long enough for Wilson to shove the merc off and jump to his feet.

His carbine in desperate need of a reload still swung from the shoulder strap he had it attached to. His pistol was on the ground to his left and his knife to his right. The trandoshan was maybe ten inches away and recovering from the shove. He had two seconds to do something. He dove for the pistol.

Starikov had also been in a brutal CQC engagement and had been reduced to his heavy blaster pistol. He fired two bolts into the chest of a merc and then staired to see Wilson Taylor diving left. But it was what laid behind him that concerned Starikov.

"Sniper!" Starikov shouted.

Wilson broke focus thinking that meant he was in the crosshairs. He tried to react fast.

Bang!

The sound of a gun powder based weapon firing a slug round roared. Starikov saw Wilson hit the ground the trandoshan with the knife looming over his body. The former FSB Alpha group operator chucked his heavy blaster striking the lizard merc in the back of the head. And just like Goliath, the merc fell to the ground.

Starikov quickly sprinted towards Taylor. He went into a slide dodging another sniper shot that pounded the ground behind him. With the adrenaline spike, he arrived next to Taylor's body grabbed the HK416 from Wilson's body shot out the magazine with the press of a button and snatched a fresh one from Wilson's best and slapped it in.

Before the sniper could lick off a second shot a massive explosion roared from behind the gate. The sniper flinched. A fatal decision.

Starikov was locked and loaded. The sniper's head in the crosshairs of the 416. He squeezed the trigger a burst of blood and falling body was the last he would see of the Trandoshan sharpshooter.

The remaining mercenaries were all riddled by blaster bolts as they tried to turn around. But it was too late as two figures in armor black as night squeezed triggers on DC17M blaster carbines. The blue bolts rapidly ripped through the mercs. Each hit by three bolts to the spine it in the back of their heads. They lurched forward then hit the ground motionless. The entrance to the gate was absolutely littered with bodies. The commandos stepped on each with their black boots and prodded the bodies with their to ensure the mercs were all dead. One flinched so, Darman pointed his blaster at the man and shot him twice in the back of the head.

Starikov lowered the carbine. He looked down to Wilson he was breathing slowly and heavily. He saw the man's around his gut. A blow that would kill a normal human being but not a man with enhancements at least not immediately. He moved Taylor's hand to better see the wound. It was a mess these slug rounds were no more high tech then a bullet fired from a musket used during the American civil war. But that was bad the wound was messy and before Starikov could do anything else the bullet would need to be removed. The blood made it very hard to see what Starikov was dealing with. Then Starikov stopped thinking a single thought occurring to him.

"Taylor, you were hit in the back yes?" Questioned Starikov.

Taylor nodded. Normally this would be good the enhancements administered to them by their respective nations would heal perfectly. But nothing was happening to the wound. This meant one thing something Starikov did not know how to handle.

"Poison," he whispered.

"Speak up," Wilson said in a very rough voice.

"Nothing the bullet went straight through," Starikov replied.

"Then why, " Wilson started but grunted, "Pain."

Starikov stopped. He was never instructed what to do in case of poison just to avoid the substance. He always imagined it coming in a liquid form. These mercs had their bullets tainted with it. Wilson may die.

"Hold I'm getting a communication. It's most likely Joel you know how he is I have to take this call"

"Uh huh," Wilson said nodding his head.

Starikov stood up and turned his back to Wilson. He then activated his communicator to call Joel. Three chirps went off and Starikov grew more anxious. Pick up the fucking com was all he could think.

"_What do you want Starikov_?" Joel's voice came over in a tone suggesting he was quite annoyed by the sheer notion Starikov called.

"Taylor's been shot with a bullet."

"_If it wasn't a fucking bullet you wouldn't need to be calling now would you. Alright here's what you're going to do-_"

"It went straight through."

There was a pause in the comlink. Joel was definitely thinking why the hell was Starikov calling if it was a clean hit.

"_It was poisoned wasn't it._"

"Uh huh."

"_Gabriels has a kit full of antidotes. Don't move him too far it could be hazardous. I'm on my way send me the location now_."

"The Trandoshan outpost but there's no cover here we'll be overwhelmed."

"_Return to the valley plenty of areas to hide there but move him carefully. I'm not sure what poison is in his system or the true extent of the wound. Also, patch it up as of now his healing systems won't function at their accelerated rate as their fighting this poison_."

"Understood Joel how long does he-"

"_Don't ask, one I don't know what's going through his system. And two even if I did he'll want you to tell him and I don't want him panicked. Keep him calm understood_."

Starikov was silent staring back at Taylor. He sighed.

"Understood."

The communication cut out. Starikov looked back at Wilson Taylor right as Niner and Darman made their approach with their carbines lowered.

"Threat neutralized I suppose we're headed back to the Rendezvous point." Said, Niner.

Starikov formed a bright but defective smile. Both commandos could tell it was deceptive.

"He's just been shot that can be taking care of." Said Niner motioning towards Wilson.

"Funny story, see the bullet was poisoned and we can't move him very far for his own safety. The valley is as far as we can go."

"You mean the kriffing valley we crashed in."

"I know it's a suicide mission within a suicide mission. But staying here is worse at least there's cover in the valley we can use to our advantage, " Starikov said, "I understand if you abandon me and Taylor. After all, we're not even technically in the same army."

"Wow, " Said Darmen, "That's bantha fodder, you went out of your way to save two of us. Literally, the least we can do is save one of you. We're staying right sarge."

"Damn right vod."

Viktor Starikov nodded. He believed he was beginning to take a liking to clones beyond just respect even.

"Alright, first we have to patch up the wound find some cloth preferably clean."

And so Wilson Taylor laid on the ground watching as a former Russian FSB Alpha group operator and two commandos of an alien army were working together on his behalf. Truly this was certainly an intriguing time in history.

**So as stated before this is an experimental story. Something I thought seemed interesting and just kind of through out there. After the first story arc is concluded in one-two chapters I shall evaluate it and make a decision of whether to commence work on future arcs in which I am brainstorming. Comments aid in that decision. And thank you for reading. **


	5. Guerrilla mode part 2

Deep in the jungle near a cave, they had sought refuge. The wounded were laid closes to the fire their wounds patched up. But still, they were much too weak for combat. Joel, however, didn't have time to provide further assistance. He grabbed a small metal box from Gabriel's backpack full of antidotes. He then slid it in his own pack before throwing it over his shoulder.

"Joel, " Said the pararescuemen, "Is there a problem?"

"Not a huge one, Starikov and Taylor fucked up like I predicted, " He started, "And now I've got to go bail them out."

There was a click as a fresh magazine went into his 417 rifle. He then slung that over his shoulder as well. He looked at Gabriel who stood there with his Scar H. Who had a look on his face.

"No, you're not coming, " Said Joel, "Someone's gotta care for our current patients."

"You're going to go out there on your own?"

Joel stopped, looking up at Michael Gabriel the SARC had a smug smile on his face and confident look on his face.

"Of course not, " He said walking backward, "Rex has got my back, right."

The ARC trooper stood at attention clutching his DC15S carbine. This Joel may not be a Jedi but he did seem to be the one in charge currently.

"Yes, sir." He replied.

"Good, because I got a feeling we're going to have to kill a lot of people."Said Joel headed to the next of the cave.

" And save Starikov and Taylor right?" Michael Gabriel questioned.

Joel formed another bright smile. Of course, that was the goal of the mission save people but naturally, you couldn't do that in this day and age without killing a few people.

"O trust me I'll definitely, save those two, that's the goal after all." Said Joel but in a tone that left Michael unsure of if that was truly his intention.

Joel and Rex then sprinted out of the cave towards the sunlight that crept through from the end. Gabriel turned back to the wounded, the slug rounds had been removed from the two commandos. And the bleeding had stopped they would recover fine. The pilot has a few broken bones so he too would be fine. The real issue was none of them were in any capacity to fight. And now Michael Gabriel was their only defense of enemies showed up. At least until Delta or team 7 returned.

"Joel the other medic, " Started Fi, "He's pretty bloodthirsty for a medic you sure he's in the right profession."

Gabriel despite not being vocal about his opinions knew Bolton had brought both men in for more than just their medical skills. Gabriel himself was very skilled at getting into hot zones to then extract an asset out alive. His skills may prove useful to Bolton in other areas then pararescue or medical support operations. As for Joel, he was a very skilled sharpshooter.

"O trust me he's in the ideal job." He replied.

The wound hadn't shown even a hint of healing. Wilson Taylor was also feeling very weak with pain immenting through his back shoulder. And coursing towards throughout his back. He knew immediately the bullet must've been poisoned. Poison was very dangerous for a terran super soldier. Their bodies could fight on for two days but would give in if something wasn't done soon after.

The fact he was being carried by Darmen and Niner in a rather rough manner wasn't helping that pain. Darman held his shoulders and Niner his legs as they hauled him along.

Starikov lead the way having reloaded his westar M5 carried that once again. He still, however, kept Wilson's 416 carbine on his back hanging from a shoulder strap. Clearly with the intention to give it back.

They arrived back in the valley near the crashed LAAT gunship. There they set Wilson down propping his back up against the craft. His face cringed from the pain.

"Contractor, " Said Darmen, "There's a good chance we may have been followed. Me and Niner will double back see if we can find any of em and take them by surprise. You may want to stay here and protect your partner."

"Right, " Said Starikov, "Good luck."

The two commandos sprinted back the hill on the path they had come from. Starikov watched. He then looked back at Taylor as soon as the commandos disappeared in the tree line.

"You don't look so bad, " He said, "It's a bit harder to tell with that balaclava of yours. But it could br worse right. If the bullet had landed closer to your heart you'd be dead."

Wilson just stared up at Viktor. He began to try and form words.

"You're, " He said roughly, "Shit at, " Another stutter, "Bed...side...manner."

There was silence thereafter. Starikov simply stood guard scanning every direction for even the slightest sign of movement. At the same time hoping Joel would call in.

"Why?" Wilson said out of nowhere.

This caught Starikov off guard. And while he was certain this was the absolute best time to make conversation, he also knew it would make things easier for Wilson.

"Why what?" Said Starikov.

"Did you stay."

He's speech was still pretty rough. So long bursts of conversation probably weren't wise.

"The point of our mission was to save life yes?" Said Starikov. Wilson replied with a subtle nod, "Leaving you to die would've been hypocritical."

Hours passed, then Darmen and Niner came sprinting back down the hill holding their blasters. Smoke rising from both their barrels as they met back up with Starikov.

"Hostiles neutralized?" Starikov questioned.

"There's a bit of a complication, " Said Niner, "In the form of a tank being accompanied by Super battle droids a few equipped with grenade launchers."

"Do you have a plan to deal with the tank?" Starikov questioned.

"Yeah, we want to set an ambush and draw attention from one end. And give Darman enough time to slip a charge on to the tank and set it off."

Starikov knew they had returned because they would need more than two guys. Three was still risky but the diversion would work better with that way. That meant Wilson would have to be left on his own for a little. This was a lot of risk.

"What of Wilson?" Questioned Starikov.

"We can hide him in the LAAT until we return." Suggested Darman, "Few more hours at most."

Starikov looked back down at Taylor. He didn't like the idea of leaving him alone. But he didn't have very many options.

Minutes later they put him back in the LAAT's cabin area. They left him with his HK416. He looked up and could only seek the sunlight through the cracks in the door that was now shut to keep him concealed.

Outside Starikov sprinted off with the commandos to handle the tank patrol. They moved with in the trees and bushes of the jungle before coming to a stop. This was most likely where the commandos predicted the patrol to pass through. Starikov made the best of the cover he had lining his back up against a tree. He made sure the blaster carbine was ready.

Darman sprinted off to another end of the jungle. Starikov lost sight of him the mattw black armor disappearing among the thick trees of the felucian jungle. Niner was nearby Starikov had watched him seek cover behind another tree a few feet away.

There was then silence absolute silence as they waited. A guerrillas greatest strength was his patience. It could take days,weeks,or months of waiting for the enemy to get in the perfect position to strike. And while Starikov knew it would only be a few hours it still felt as if he'd be stuck behind a try for ever. He enjoyed CQB raids, infiltration missions,recon, and other types of special operations much more than this guerrilla stuff.

The sky faded from blue to black as the stars above became visible. Starikov remained in the same position still with his carbine. His boredom had now begun to eat at him. Desperately had he wanted to go off hunt this enemy and hit them head on. Desperately had he wanted to make some joke. But he knew in this moment he'd had to suppress all that to make the kill.

His eyes then sparked at the sound of metal feet clapping against the ground. The sound of metal gears shifting as metal bodies moved. And the ever so subtle hum of the engine of a CIS AAT. He brought his westar M5 up and switched off the safety. He waited as the sound grew louder and more crisp.

"Now." Said Niner.

Both men jumped from cover at the same time. A group of six B2 super battle droids stood behind the tank two armed with rocket launchers. The head of one was right in Starikov's cross hairs. A burst of three blue blaster bolts sprang from the rifle. The droid dropped out of view of the cross hairs. Another was hit by Niner.

Both men then held their triggers down. Blasters bolts exploded. They then stopped firing and retreated further back into the forest. The remaining B2s opened fire on their position. The tank directed its main gun where Starikov and Niner had fired from.

Darman then emerged from behind another tree no eyes on his position. He sprinted quickly an anti tank charge in hand. He strapped right on the power generator on the left end. He quickly pressed in a code setting the bomb to go off in ten seconds. Then he turned with his carbine back in hand and sprinted back off into the trees.

The tank fired its man cannon. The shell flew past the trees and right over Starikov's head a bright vibrant yellow explosion went off a few feet ahead. The shock wave from the round through Starikov back.

The battle droids moved with the tank running over trees towards Starikov's position. Starikov began fired five rounds off with his carbine. Then watched as the tank was consumed by an expanding yellow orb of fire. The droids were caught up in it as well. The shockwave from that explosion sent him back I the other direction.

Viktor Starikov formed a bright smile on his face as he staired at the tank which was now a melted black chunk of metal with flames exuding from it. The droids were all gone as well. He laughed a jolly laugh.

"Burn in hell tin boys!" He shouted.

It was about an hour sprint back to the canyon. They slid back down the hill near the crashed LAAT. Quickly Darman climbed onto the haul sliding the door open. He then jumped in and lifted Wilson Taylor up so Niner could grab his shoulders. Then hauled him over so Starikov could catch him and lower him down.

"The tanks done for." Starikov said proudly.

"Heard it." Wilson said still quite roughly.

There was a sharp snap followed by a hum as a blaster's safety was switched off and charged up. The noise came from behind Starikov. Niner froze as Darman climbed up.

"Don't move," A voice said, "Drop your weapons now!"

Starikov did as told setting down the westar M5. But also slid his hand past Wilson's holster.

He then spun around and fired. Three loud shots shouted through the night. A trandoshan mercenary met his end by three bullets. His blood splattered across his face and shirt. His body struck the ground hard and more blood flowed around him.

Starikov hadn't a second to relax as blaster fire shouted. Darman and Niner quickly dove to the ground behind the LAAT. Starikov dragged Taylor to cover as well. The could the vibrations of the impact of the blaster bolts.

"Any one spot the shooters?" Niner asked.

"Pretty sure they're somewhere over there," Starikov said as he gestured with his hand anywhere beyond cover.

"That's real helpful." Said Niner.

However embedded with in the blaster fire Starikov could make out footsteps rushing a long the ground. He moved quick still with the Glock. Eight shots roared in the night. Three trandoshan mercenaries were struck before they even realized Starikov had moved. There bodies hit the ground.

Starikov wiped back behind cover. He then turned to Niner.

"Blaster fires coming from the hilltop treeline."

As he said that a bolt broke through the LAAT burning a hole right next to Starikov's head. They quickly ducked the down there cover clearly becoming weakened. More footsteps could be heard from multiple directions.

Out of nowhere an explosion thundered. The vibrations felt through the ground. The hill that faced their backs and had been the sight of Darman's grenade launchers at the very start of all this ARC trooper Rex stood having just throne a thermal detonator.

Joel with holding his rifle sprinted. He went into a combat roll and raised his HK417 dmr. He pulled the trigger back eight times. The bullets ripped through a group of mercs charging towards the LAAT that had survived the grenade attack.

Joel then sprinted towards Starkov pressing his back against the LAAT. He then sprang from cover and ended the heavy blaster in the tree line on the hill accross from their position, placing a bullet right through the trandoshan skull. The top of the mercs head was shattered. The rifle men near him ducked as three more hard bangs sounded off and another was hit three times in the chest.

Rex chucked another grenade over and squeezed the trigger on his DC17S providing suppressive fire. Darman joined in. No one was actually sure how any hostiles were among the tree line.

"Look at the fine mess you two idiots managed to get yourselves into." Joel grunted.

"Shut the fuck up, and get Wilson back to normal so we can get the hell out of here!" Starikov shouted back.

"You better cover my ass so I can save his." Joel said.

With out further banter Starikov grabbed Wilson's 416 carbine and nodded to the clones. He then sprinted out of cover and squeezed the trigger down. The muzzle exploded with a bright vibrant metal flash ten bullets were unleashed. Rex charged up next to Starikov and squeezed his trigger down as well. Niner and Darman both came in and chucked thermal detonators into the tree line.

Two explosions cracked upon the hill blowing the trees away. All fire ceased. Starikov scanned the horizon for more enemies.

Joel was quick able to tell exactly what the poison was based on systems and how the wound looked. He withdrew two pills and placed them in his palm. He then extended them towards Wilson.

"What are you waiting for a fucking glass of water," Joel started, "Take the damn pills dry like a man."

Wilson moved his arm which had already grown weak to get his hand over Joel's palm. He grabbed the pills and quickly shoved them in his mouth with a gulp they were down the system.

"Alright, it's going to be a few hours till you're back at maximum strength. So take it-"

A most barbaric monstrous roar of a trandoshan mercenary sent shivers down Joel's spine.

Starikov saw a giant trandoshan in heavy armor carrying a very big heavy blaster. Another force of mercenaries stood with him on the hill.

"Son of a bitch." Joel cursed seeing what they were dealing with.

"Joel!" He shouted, "Get Taylor to safety, I'll dance with the beasts."

Joel nodded. Wilson wanted to speak up, but before he had the chance he was thrown over the SARC's shoulders fireman style. Joel then sprinted off the battlefield back up the hill.

Gun fire,explosions, and screams filled the night and it was all Wilson could hear. He couldn't see anything but the intensity of the noise was enough to tip him off as to what was going on. Starikov had chosen to make a final stand.

A cave was a bitter place to spend mourning in. The rocks were hard and cold. And the wind howled making it so much colder. Lighting a fire was out of the question smoke would give a way their position.

Things could be worse. Wilson Taylor could've been dead like Starikov most likely was. His com had gone silent he'd already made an five attempts to contact Starikov since he recovered. He hadn't answered once. This wasn't one of the Russians rouses either. He knew by now Starikov would've become annoyed and replied to get Wilson to can it over the chat. There was nothing. Starikov was most likely dead. And Wilson had gotten him killed. After all had he'd not been shot they would've never had to cover him.

Wilson looked at his hands. He'd taken his gloves off to properly examine them. His white skin was deceptive his hands were red. He had a lot of blood on those hands. Starkov's blood,Niner's blood, Darman's blood, and Rex's blood. Two of those men they were suppose to save. Now they were dead. That was on Taylor.

Delta squad had since returned all four members still intact. Squad 7 emerged not long after that. Their distractions had seemed to work no sign of enemy activity even near the cave.

"Got a call from command," Said Alpha 17, "Conventional forces have arrived planet side they'll push to our location in the next 5 days."

5 days of reflecting on Captain Viktor Starikov's fate. That's what that told Wilson. He didn't have to die if he'd gone with the instincts that were expected out of him. The ones Wilson associated with a mercenary he would've lived. No he'd chosen to die so another could live. That wasn't how a mercenary went out. That's how a soldier went out. Wilson saw to many soldiers die under his command on earth.

He hadn't even thought about Bolton's reaction yet. They told him it was a survey mission. That the risk while high wouldn't be worse than anything. No a man selected personally by Bolton for his task force was dead on the jungle floor of felucia. His wrath would know no bounds.

"Five more days," Said Boss, "What's the hold up?"

"Orders from the top are to keep civilian casualties to a minimum. Grievous issued an order to the General here to move his forces into densely civilian packed areas. This includes tanks,infantry, and heavy gun positions. So the jedi are going to push into each village engage in door to door fighting as opposed to bombing each village."

"They do realize the bombs may kill less civilians after all our pilots are pretty damn precise when it comes to precision strikes. Not to mention they can force the CIS out if they target the right areas."

"Boss, if we were calling the shots the battle would've been over yesterday. Fact is we're not. So it's 5 days learn to deal with." Alpha replied bluntly.

"It's gonna be longer than five days," Fordo spoke out.

Everyone directed their heads to the ARC Captain with Red stripes. He never said anything. His voice sent shivers down everyone's spine. It was crisp perfectly clear. Every letter articulated perfectly.

"General Grievous is currently assaulting Salucumi the resistance their will surrender tomorrow. As they have already conceded for a meeting to arrange a ceasefire. Grievous will kill them and move on. Felucia will be his obvious next target. He will arrive on the third day in full force. Grievous will then proceed to hammer republic forces who will already have been exhausted from heavy fighting against current CIS forces. From their every inch of territory they took will be lost unless reinforcements arrive but at which point 5 days will have turned into weeks and possibly months."

After his very concise and well thought theory Fordo returned to what he was previously doing. Which was cleaning his signature customized westar blaster pistol.

"You got to be kriffing kidding me. I'm not going to sit here while good men are out there fighting and dying." Said Boss outraged, "There's gotta be something we can do. We're still behind enemy lines and they haven't deduced our location yet. Surely we can pull something together."

"We could," Taylor said, "A little sabotage and misdirection may aid in the GARs offensive."

"Alright, how we're low on supplies and low on numbers. And eventually they'll see through our trickery. The mission was supposed to be get in and get out nothing more nothing less. We aren't equipped for a long term op victory at this point is impossible." Grunted Ranger.

Captain Wilson Taylor stood up. He formed a bright smile on his face and his eyes glowed with opportunity. There was nothing the ex American Special operations man loved more than an impossible task. Tell him he couldn't do something all he wanted to do after was find a way to do it.

"There is nothing impossible to him who will try," Wilson recited, "Words said by a far greater man than I. Simply put you've given us a list of problems to solve. So take a deep breath and let's figure this out solve one problem at a time."

"Supplies first," Said Alpha, "That's amou,food, and bandages. The necessities."

"I can handle the amou and bandages. We can go two weeks with out food. Don't blow your rations for three more days at least."

"Alright, water command what's our solution for that?" Alpha Questioned.

"There's a stream somewhere and I trust everyone brought a cantine."

Alpha nodded. The contractors had gotten them this far. Despite the casualties Alpha had faith Wilson would indeed secure the necessary supplies. Leaving him to focus on attack.

"We need strategy and tactics." Questioned Alpha, "It's gotta be something that'll draw enough attention to allow republic forces an easier time advancing."

"We need to make them believe we're much larger and deadlier threat then the rest of the invasion force." Suggested Boss, "If we draw enough attention towards ourselves by creating a threat they believe is big they'll be forced to draw troops from those villages to go after us."

"How? We are the smaller threat in every sense of the word," Said Ranger.

"Yes, I know we aren't trying to become a bigger threat. We're trying to create the illusion of a bigger threat." Boss replied, "It's really a damage game. If we can inflict a great deal of damage doing what it is we're good at. Assassination and sabotage it might work."

"We're going to need proper intel," Said Fordo, "Which of course can be taken from a tactical droid's brain."

"Or pound it out of a mercenaries skull." Alpha suggested punching his fist to his palm.

So they developed objectives. First being to conduct recon to find tactical droids and mercenary officers. Wilson Taylor still had to full fill his end of the plan.

Which required a communication to possibly the coldest SOB in the galaxy.

Jackson Bolton sat at his desk on his computer going over files for his own personal assistant. Who would be a strategist and an analyst.

His communicator chirped. It was either Taylor or Starikov. It was about damn time. The commandos and ARCs had withdrawn from Felucia and he had not heard anything since.

"Captain Taylor," Bolton said as the mans blue hologram came up, "What have you've been up to. After all you should have reported back hours ago."

"Bolton, what do you think will happen on Felucia?"

Bolton brought his hands up in a pyramid. He puzzled by Wilson's question. Clearly he had done something that had caused a great deal of trouble and was trying to make it sound in Bolton's interest. It seemed to prove best to simply play along.

"Grievous will finish off the Saleucamiand then he shall crush whatever remains of the GAR on Felucia. It's unfortunate more natural resources shall fuel the CIS war machine. But it is an inevitability."

Wilson had a sly grin across his face. He was up to something. Bolton found Wilson taking a hand at deception amusing. He wasn't very good at it.

"Suppose Republic forces are not exhausted or nearly as exhausted when Grievous arrives?"

"Perhaps they'll hold out long enough for reinforcements to arrive," Bolton replied, "Cut to the chase Wilson."

"I'm behind enemy lines with a platoon of hardened republic special operations forces. I can confirm to you based on my evaluation I have a combination of Rangers,SEALs, tier one operators, and berets. And if you can find a way to smuggle weapons,amou,water, and food before Grievous's arrival I may be able to lead this force and change the course of this battle and deny the CIS more resources."

Bolton was silent as he contemplated what he would do. Wilson was still concealing something from him. Intentionally not talking about certain topics. And trying to distract by getting him to focus on what most likely was a more pressing and advantageous matter. So he would allow him to do it. That was a smart play. Bolton would not sacrifice a strategic opportunity to discover information that would be most likely fruitless on regards to success.

"You're going to need more than five days," Said Bolton, "I will arrange that. I will also establish a link between your force and republic forces planetside. It may prove helpful though note they will believe you are a clone force. I trust you are not wasting my time or resources."

"No sir."

"Good," Said Bolton, "I trust you and Starikov will do good work."

Wilson was silent and still. There it was Bolton had him. His hesitation spoke for him. Whatever it was he was hiding was now out on the table.

"I take it Starikov is with you, it's not in his nature to simply abandon the force he was deployed with," Bolton pressed.

"He's our on recon I'll have him contact you when I see him."

"I'll be waiting."

The communication cut. Jackson Bolton leaned against his chair. He knew with out a doubt they had become separated. Starikov may have even been killed in action. Truly unfortunate if that was true. However it wasn't as if Starikov couldn't be replaced. Sure the replacement wouldn't bring the same skill or ferocity to the table. But there were others skilled at this type of work.

Jackson Bolton rose from his chair. It was best he handled this supply and time issue immediately. He also knew Wilson Taylor exaggerated the details. If it wasn't a platoon he would've looked bad. If they weren't skilled there wouldn't be confidence. To what extent was the real question. Either way Bolton had his own solution.

Zey was in the tactical room debriefing a group of commandos. Maize then entered the room. He had his hands folded tightly behind his back.

"Sir, I have been informed that a conversation with an agent is required."

Zey nodded then dismissed the commandos. He then watched as Jackson Bolton entered the room. His eyes still hidden behind his sunglasses. Part of him actually believed if he removed the glasses Bolton wouldn't look much diffrent.

"Mr Bolton I take there is something of importance you would like to discuss." Saud Zey.

"It seems while in Felucia the contractors have found a way to turn the tides of the battle. They've assembled a platoon of your best men behind enemy lines. I believe they can inflict a great deal of damage but they require assistance."

"And this assistance requires exactly what from me."

"I need to smuggle supplies and men in. I have sources it will require funds. I also require a temporary task force involving shock forces and black ops assets for temporary use on Selecumi. And I want to establish a relationship between the asset on Felucia and GAR forces if they can work together and exchange information they may be able to deny the CIS access of course I require approval."

Zey nodded as he thought. Bolton was asking a lot and he felt uneasy.

"You'll have a limit on the budget only clone personal will be smuggled in and what is it you intend to do on Saleucami."

Bolton was silent for a moment. He needed to think about the best way to phrase it.

"I intend to raise hell."

A series of whistles to the tune of the Russian national anthem whirled down a long hallway of cells. All of them field with captured republic personal.

One cell however had a seemingly satisfied Viktor Starikov. He had been in a great fire fight. Killed many soldiers and while he was a prisoner now. He knew that was only the beginning.

"Contractor, please I just want rest can you quit your whistling." Said Niner in the bunk under Starikov.

Starikov stopped his hands propped behind his head. He formed a mischievous grin. He always found ways to keep himself entertained.

"Rex and Darman you also have problem with my whistling."

"O I'm enjoying it alright." Said Darman who found humor in Niner's complaints.

"You do you sir." Rex replied.

Starikov heard Niner groan. Unfortunately for the commando sergeant he was the latest candidate for his hijinks.

"It seems the masses will be disappointed. I shall cease," Said Starikov.

"Many thanks contractor."

"Because I shall sing!" Viktor said with quite the smile.

"Wait wha-"

"ROSSIYA SVYASHCHENNAYA NASHA DERZHAVA!"

"Damn you contractor!"


	6. Guerrilla mode part 3

**Chapter 6 Guerrilla mode part **3

The Russian national anthem roared in the background by a live choir. Captain Viktor Starikov stood on a stage with his wife Annika who stood to his right a bright white dress. His daughter Catherine stood off to his right in her red dress, she was roughly sixteen. To his left Stood his squad his six men Ivanov with his youthful bright face and Mikhailov with his very strong and serious appearance.

The President walked over and stuck a pin onto Starikov's chest. Starikov brought up his hand in a swift salute.

"Good now Captain you must pay the price," He said, "The medal is not free."

"What?" Questioned Starikov.

"The price Captain," The president's voice changed.

Men wearing balaclavas and black body suits carrying AK47's walked out. They stopped in front of Annika,Catherine,Ivanov, and Mikhailov. They turned in perfect sync, raised their rifles in perfect sync, harmonious click echoed as they switched the safeties on their rifles off in perfect sync.

"No wait!" Starikov yelled in a panicked fashion.

The music grew louder completely drowning out the gun shots. The muzzle flash danced brightly like a wildfire. The bullets flew from the barrels. Anika was hit in the forehead once and chest seven times. Her white dress stained with red blood. She hit the ground brain particle and blood splattering across Starikov's face.

Mikhailov was hit in his gut. He went to the ground. A masked man walked over pointed the rifle at the wounded man's face and fired. More blood splattered across Starikov.

Ivanov was shredded by bullet fire. Blood,guts,brains, and other fluids splattered everywhere. Starikov tried to shield himself from it all with his hands. But he could feel all of the blood splattering against him.

He lowered his hands the Russian president was gone replaced by a different man. He had a long black musky beard. His cruel yellow eyes were trained on Starikov. A dingy grey military uniform consumed his chest. Bullets arranged on his belt dangled from his chest.

"Take it back!" Starikov shouted, "I don't want it."

"You complain before it's over Captain." Said the grey suited man.

A bright sharp dagger was drawn. The sun gleamed off its blade. Starikov then turned around to see Catherine.

"No!" Starikov shouted.

The men in masks seized him. His arms held tightly behind him. Another rammed his fist into Starikov's ribs.

The man with the grey military suit and bullets moved upon Catherine with the knife. Starikov's daughter screamed as the blade was raised into the air.

"Nooo!" Starikov screamed.

The Russian jolted up from his metal bed. Sweat pouring down his face. He let out a deep and bellowing gasp. It was still dark and silent. The metal clamp of droids marching outside the cells was all that could be heard.

Starikov brought his wrist up to his forehead wiping the sweat off. This was why he never slept sober anymore.

"Let me guess nightmares." Said a voice from the bunk across.

Starikov flinched at first believing he was the only one awake in the cell. He turned his head to see Darman was also awake. He'd taken the bunk under Rex.

"Yes," Said Starikov.

"Want to talk about it?" Darman questioned.

"No, not really," Said Starikov "It's just bad dreams. Nothing to be concerned about. Everyone gets them."

Starikov wished he'd still had a bottle of vodka or any kind of Alcoholic beverage. It made sleep much easier. On the flip side genetic enhancements made it so one could go much longer with out sleep and function perfectly. Granted sleep kept his senses above human. But there was nothing wrong with right at human. Which is what he would be in a few days after sleep deprivation, normal again. If one could have normality anymore.

Mourning sounded off with a boom! An artillery gun went off near the prison. The blast sent a shock wave Starikov felt shake the walls. Everyone jumped from their beds accept Starikov who'd already been awake. He slipped from the top bunk. Everyone else seemed a little shaken up.

"Relax as long as you hear the shots you're fine." Said Starikov, "It wasn't meant for you."

The cells were opened as battle droids aimed blasters at them. They were forced out of the cell the blasters pointed at their backs.

They were forced into the courtyard. The intensity of the hot humid jungle air. The sun beat down upon them. Around them other soldiers who had been captured stood, Not all were clones some were officers unlucky enough to have been on the ground or shot down.

A Duro stood before them. His blue skin and blood red eyes were prominent among his other features. He wore a light grey armor plate and had a blaster pistol tucked firmly into a holster on his right leg. Starikov knew this was the warden.

"Gentlemen congratulations you have become apart of my labor force. I intend to sell you once the battle ends. Until then you are going to work." The Duro said.

Starikov knew what that meant. He wasn't in a POW camp. This was a labor camp. And if what that Duro said was true. They were going to be sold into slavery the second the battle ended.

He pitied the slaver that would get him. A knife would find itself sliding across the neck of the slaver in the night. The man's blaster pistol in his hand he would proceed to shoot anyone else in the slavers house accept other slaves. He didn't need sons,daughters, or widows coming after him later. Then he would loot the place before leaving. Of course the local authorities would chase him. He would kill them as well no cop could match him. After he was done there he would steal a ship. Hopefully pursuit would continue maybe even a bounty placed on his head. But he would track down this Duro and torture him find out where Darman,Niner, and Rex had been sold. And if they hadn't escaped on their own, repeat the process. He'd create a bloody reputation for himself.

The thought of all that made him smile. The thrill was what he lived for. That adrenaline boost he got from people trying to kill him and killing them. Being hunted or being the hunter, It was something Starikov had become good at. This was his job after all.

"What are you smiling at." Hissed a trandoshan mercenary who'd been ordered to inspect the prisoners.

The mercenary used the butt of his carbine as a baton stabbing it into Starikov's gut. The former Russian soldier caved as he gasped for air. He went to his knees then looked up. His smile gone he studied the mercenary. His scales were dark green but had bright yellow stripes painted over them. Then there was a scar around his eye.

Rex and Darman helped Starikov up. As the guard walked away. Viktor Starikov brainstormed ways he would make the guard suffer. How he would draw screams from the merc with a knife or his hands. Human suffering didn't bring Starikov pleasure. But bring justice against an enemy or otherwise hostile filled him with a proud sense of accomplishment. To know he had out played or out maneuvered them, there was much satisfaction in that.

And what better way to do that then plan a daring escape?

Reconnaissance was very delicate yet important work. The art of not being seen while still seeing everything. This was supposed to be the point of ARC troopers. But that role had changed into a direct action and battlefield role.

Fordo was still very good at it. He'd managed to follow a group of battle droids back to a village. He then looked down from a nearby hill with his binoculars. He made out a group of tanks supported by a Garrison of droids of varying models. At the top of the tank sat a tactical droid.

To remove the tactical droid from service would prove beneficial. Fordo took out his holo map and swiped his finger over it marking an X on the position. He then put the holoprojector away and slowly army crawled backwards down the hill.

As soon as he was down he sprinted back into the thick jungle trees. He stopped ever so often turning around to ensure he wasn't being followed.

Then he sprinted back to the cave encased with in the jungle.

Once inside he saw that Alpha and Boss were talking with Wilson. He simply stood and watched choosing not to interrupt.

Taylor saw Fordo in the corner of his eye. He turned his gaze towards him to acknowledge the man's presence.

"Got something for us soldier?" He Questioned.

"Yes, I've located a tactical droid." Said Fordo in reply.

It was about time they'd received good news. Especially since Bolton had not called back with word on supplies. Wilson nodded.

"Alright, where?"

Fordo took out his projector revealing the holo map with the X marked on it. Everyone directed their attention towards it. It was quite a ways out, about twenty kilometers.

"How many people do we have to kill to get to the droid?" Alpha Questioned looking back up at Fordo.

"There's a whole battalion of battle droids along with three tanks," Said Fordo.

"We need guard routes," Said Boss, "So we can find a gap to exploit."

Wilson thought for a second. There was a chance the tactical droid might move. After all the republic offensive had begun. If that happened they would lose their opportunity to strike.

"We might not have time to sit around and create a full guard layout. The tactical droid might decide to move to take the fight towards the enemy."

"If that's the case send us," Said Boss, "This is what Republic commandos do. We can execute a raid with little information in a fast manner."

Taylor nodded his head, remembering the raid he'd seen earlier. ARCs were capable of that as well but he couldn't throw all his cards out at once. He needed them to help coordinate strategy, to collect information, and take the lead when an actual battle occurred. They were closer to rangers with the Alphas being Delta operators. And he only had two Alphas. Delta squad were closer to SEALs.

"Alright, you'll accompany me," Said Taylor, "Anything goes wrong, Alpha you're in charge Fordo you're tagging a long, since you know exactly how to get there."

"Taylor," Joel spoke out, "This can't be a good idea. Have you learned nothing. Don't go out there and needlessly risk your life again."

"This isn't needlessly Joel," Said Wilson, "If we don't acquire that droids brain we're dead in the water. As leader I'm not going to order an important but deadly assault and allow others to die while I sit back in safety."

Joel sighed. He knew the two commandos were recovering from their wounds. The bullets were removed and the bleeding had stopped.

"Fine but I'm tagging along this time."

"Fair enough," said Wilson, "Delta! Fall on me we deploy A,S,A,P."

It took roughly another hour for Fordo to lead everyone back to the village the CIS had turned into a strong hold. The village itself was surrounded by a concrete wall originally intended to keep bandits out. Now it was surrounded by a deep holes that had heavy blaster emplacements. Several tanks were positioned around it as well for defensive reasons.

Taylor spotted the tactical droid with Fordo's binoculars. He lowered the binoculars to get a better look at the situation.

"It's weakest on the south end," Wilson started, "There's no guards to speak of. The tactical droid doesn't seem to expect an attack from behind enemy lines. A point in our favor. Now we've got to be quick about it. I anticipate a minuet max to navigate from their inwards to the tactical droid's position."

"Are we seriously considering a full frontal assault." Joel said in protest, "What's your plan to get back out. Cause the second shots go off they're not just gonna let us run to the hills."

"Right." Sighed Wilson.

He then paused and found himself stumped. He thought for a second and then unslung his backpack. He unzipped it, reached in and took out a black canister.

"What's that?" Questioned Boss, "A flash grenade?"

"No, it's a smoke grenade," Said Taylor, "It will cloak our movements for a minute but I've only got one. So we'll need to use it on our way out. I suggest when we reconvene here on the hill then we can use the time to disappear back into the jungle."

"We only need the droid's brain intact correct." Said Sev.

"Correct." Wilson replied nodding.

"Good."

It seemed everyone was on the same page. Taylor got up in a crouch. And raised a DC17M blaster carbine that once belonged to Atin. However he was wounded and unfortunately Taylor's prized 416 had been lost. So Atin was forced to surrender his own blaster at least until Bolton was able to file supplies through.

They dashed off. Their feet barely touching the ground as they moved limiting the sound to almost nothing. They kept up the pace till they arrived at the south end of the village.

The group then sprinted towards it. They lined up perfectly against the wall. Simply listening for clanking metal feet against the ground on the other side.

It seemed clear. Scorch knelt down lowering his hands prepared to be a human footstool. Wilson charged up first. Scorch boosted him up and over the wall.

On the other end Taylor found himself in the backyard of a small house. His feet planted in flowers of someone's garden. The house itself was small and round.

He raised his blaster up as he heard more flowers rustle when the others began coming in.

Sev went in last getting to the top of the wall then pulling Scorch up. Both troopers landed behind the rest. They were quick to raise the sights of their guns up to their visors.

Wilson lead the advance moving out of the backyard over a small dense line. They sprinted across the street in front of the house past another section of housing.

After crossing two other sections they stopped reaching the market place. Droids stood on guard. The squad had their backs lined up against a square building in an alleyway across from another square building. Both casting dark shadows over the group.

On the other end in a single tank, sat the tactical droid. Super Battle Droids split up into 4 groups of six and stood as sentries around the tactical droid. Each had their blaster arms pointed up ready to fire at a moments notice.

A sharp clink rang against one of the Super battle Droids feet. The droid looked down to see a round metal orb. If it were organic its eyes would've widened knowing this was how it would end. But it was a droid and simply stared unable to do anything else.

The explosion cracked a bright yellow spark popped and the explosion itself went off with a thunderous boom. The tactical droid taken by surprised turned its head to the direction of the explosion. Having run the calculations it was improbable that an enemy force would have broken in.

In the droids confusion, Wilson Taylor burst in opening fire. A flurry of bright blue blaster bolts shot out from the barrel of his carbine. Three shots struck one Super Battle Droid in its face plate. Two others were shot up countless times in countless areas.

Captain Fordo held out both his blaster pistols as Joel laid down cover fire from behind. Fordo went into a roll and fired off both his custom westar blaster pistols. The bolts pounded against the faceplates of three other super battle droids before they could move. Smoke rose from their face plates as they struck the ground.

Scorch thrust another thermal detonator forward while the rest of the squad peppered a group of super battle droids with blaster fire. Each droid was struck and killed instantly. The last explosion consumed six other droids in a fiery ball their parts shot everywhere.

As soon as the area was clear the group surrounded the tank. The tactical droid stared at them about to order the tank crew to do something. Sev came from behind jumping on the back edge of the tank and pulling himself up next to the droids. He ejected the vibro blade in his gauntlet. He then thrust it forward in a fast disciplined position going through the droids neck.

The head flew off. Sev grabbed it in mid air with his other hand then jumped off the tank. Scorch then strapped a charge on the back of the tank, both men then sprinted back to the rest of the group.

Everyone was furiously firing at B1 battle droids sprinting down the street having heard the explosions. Each droid was hit in the chest or head and shattered into metal bits on impact.

As soon as Sev was in the group they stopped firing. Instead they moved back down the alleyway. The tank behind them erupted into a large explosion.

The group quickly went back over the wall and back into the open grasslands of Felucia. They could hear the loud hum of the tanks and loud clanking of marching droids moving around to their position.

They got to the peak of the hill and turned around to see fifty battle droids and two tanks with guns directed at their position. Wilson Taylor didn't hesitate any longer as he took out the smoke grenade and popped the clip off. He then thrust it to the ground. It went off with a pop cloaking everything in thick grey smoke.

They sprinted away as the droids and tanks opened fire hitting nothing but dirt.

Bolton stood in the hanger of the special operations base on Coruscant. He watched as Republic shuttles flew in and were being loaded with metal crates full of guns,explosives,food rations,medical supplies, and other supplies that Wilson Taylor may find useful for whatever it was he was up to. A long with them reinforcements were being scrambled in as well.

One Commando squad decked in forest green armor filed into one Shuttle. An Alpha class ARC trooper accompanied by clone paratroopers filed into another. Special operations clones in yet another.

Bolton simply watched taking observations. Of course he had more things on his mind. He had determined in order to stall Grievous he would need to take direct action. He already had a plan in mind for that. But that meant he would have to go off to Selecumi. He'd studied the situation the militia had put up a fight against invading CIS forces but ultimately was losing. They were going to sue for peace soon and surrender. Grievous already had a CIS designated governor planet side.

Bolton heard Zey approaching from behind. He also heard the sound of plastoid boots against the ground this most certainly meant clones. He had requested a shock force and a black ops force. This was most likely them.

He turned around and studied each clone Zey had brought. One man wore a sun visor over his t visor. The helmet also had an antenna that stretched up on the right side. He stood with other troopers all of which were equipped with jet pack. They must've been paratroopers.

Another wore a blood red pauldron and a kama that had blood red lines on the end. He stood with two others both of which had the same pattern but in blue. They were built bigger then normal clone troopers and stood up right like metal stilts. They were Alpha class ARC troopers perhaps. Or perhaps not. Next to them a Mandalorian.

"These are men from the 7th Sky Corp best shock troops I could find," Zey said Gesturing towards the clones with jet packs, "And these are Null Class ARC troopers they are the closest thing I could find to black ops agents."

Bolton stared at the Null Class ARC troopers from behind his sunglasses that were as black as the night sky. The fact they wore traditional uniform was disconcerting. If they were going on black operations the lack of uniformity was key. Not carrying standard issue weapons and not wearing standard issue gear. Having as Wilson used with Starikov "the mercenary look" Infact Starikov was black ops one of the more classified purposes of the defunct Russian Alpha group.

"I should warn you they're not like most clones they have a history of taking issue with authority." Said Zey.

"They're individualistic men," Bolton corrected having done the research and read the files, "You don't give them orders. You give them objectives and let them handle the rest."

"I'm impressed with this man where'd you dig him up?" Questioned the Mandalorian.

"I'm a contractor Sergeant Skirata," Bolton said identifying the man based on his armor, "He simply hired me."

"What's the objective you want us to complete." Said the Red Null ARC.

Bolton's research pinpointed this man as Ordo. He was the highest ranking out of all the Null ARCs.

"I plan to let you loose on Selecumi, do what you have to in order to ensure the militia continues to kill seps. As for the paratroopers I need you to secure landing zones so I may smuggle weapons into the area."

"And what will you be doing, see as how you told me that you would be going a long as well?" Questioned Zey.

"As I said before, I'm going to raise hell. Now I leave you to it. I must meet a contact who will supply additional arms for the militia. If you're files are indeed not fabricated then I expect Grievous will find himself some trouble soon. I shall meet you back here in five standard hours."

Everyone new their parts and split to prepare. Bolton left the base jumping in a black speeder it was civilian grade and wasn't some high end sports addition. Just a normal every day speeder designed not to draw attention.

The trip was roughly an hour. He began lowering himself down into the lower levels of coruscant eventually arriving at one three one three. There he pulled to a small bar the lights were dim as they always were on this level.

Bolton got out of his car and made sure his M9 Beretta was firmly tucked underneath his coat ready to draw at a moments notice. Down here some thug might get the notion he could rob you. Better him then you if weapons came in to play.

Bolton entered the bar every where, shady figures sat. Most of which were packing blaster pistols that they openly displayed.

Bolton looked to the corner where he saw a man who had a black beret on his head with a skull that had two assault rifles crossed behind it patched to his head. Bolton new this man though both were in a different line of work when they first met.

The agent took a seat right in front of the man whose face was glued to a data pad.

"I need AK47s,mortars, RPGs, and f RPKs." Said Bolton.

At first there was silence. Then the man in the beret lowered the data pad. He sighed forming a disappointed look on his face.

"I haven't seen you since the Federation wars ended ten years ago, and the first thing you say is hey John I need a bunch of guns, not how are you doing John? Or do you even still run guns now that you've built a highly successful PMC? Or how's the wife, Ya know things people say when seeing their good friend."

"John, if you didn't still smuggle guns why would you agree to this meeting?" Bolton continued, "I've heard of your PMC the black army. I may even want to contract you for an under the table job. After all you do still do Irregular warfare."

"Yes, but back to the guns, we don't make AKs,RPGs, or RPKs nor do we out fit them any more. If you want those you're going to have to call the Georgian. He's got contacts with Russian Mafiosos. Now, you say you've got a contract for me."

"Yes, it's real under the table I need you to destabilize the CIS occupation on Selecumi but you need to do it in a way that makes it apear as if the natives are doing it on their own."

John leaned back. His full name was Johnathan Corvinus an American of Hungarian descent. Claimed to be descent of Matthias Corvinus the Hungarian king who had the famed black army. Though that had never been proved. He was a former Green beret former chief warrant officer. Then he'd gone CIA SAD got the call sign 'warlord'.

"So, it's a black op," He replied, "Alright let's talk payment."

"I will pay you after the job is done at a start of 1000 credits per man per day."

John nodded. It wasn't bad pay if it was a quick op if it wasn't he could always negotiate for more.

"Bolton you've gotta be what fifty? Ever think about leaving all this you'd make a killing as a merc no pun intended."

"Corvinus, with the genetic enhancements we received during the second cold war age doesn't matter. Now do we have a deal or not?"

"I suppose it's a deal, I take it you're also going to want me to act as a middle man for the Georgian if this is under the table."

"You assume correctly," Said Bolton, "And John I'll admit I didn't know about the wife."

"Figured, seeing as how you never got back to me about being the best man." John replied, "But looking to the future. Can I assume you may want our services in the future."

"We will see based on your performance on Selecumi."

After a long day of hard labor Starikov had been returned to his cell. Their warden had them in the mines all day going after minerals. Two men died they were human officers not use to hard labor a distinct difference between humans of this galaxy and Terran officers. They hit the ground after being overworked the trandoshan with scar shot both.

Starikov felt bad. It was a waste to kill them they would be useful in other areas. Starikov never committed violence that was meaningless.

He took the time in the cell to examine the exact guard detail. Six droids patrolled their hallway under watch of one trandoshan.

"Starikov I've had it!" Shouted Niner, "Enough of your attitude."

"Yeah!" Starikov hollered back, "What are you going to do about. After all it's been established that I am the Alpha of this cell."

"Well it's time for a coup!"

Niner grabbed Starikov yanking him down from his bed onto the floor. Starikov jumped up to have a fist come across his jaw. Though not hard enough to break it. He grunted. Then moved dodging another swing and sent his fist into Niner's gut. The commando caved grunting as well. Darman watched while Rex laid on his bed asleep.

The trandoshan sprinted over with three of the droids. He held a shock stick. He swung the door open and jabbed Starikov in the gut. Starikov hit the ground shaking. He turned to Niner ready to shock him as well.

Rex then turned around. And saw the guard's holster with a nice looking heavy blaster pistol sticking out. He quickly snatched it from the holster and stood up. Then he bashed the transdoshan over the head knocking him out in one blow. He quickly turned the blaster pistol on the three droids.

Three rounds shouted in the cell. The droids hit the ground smoke rising from their heads.

Niner quickly grabbed one of their blaster carbines and through the other one to Darman. Starikov recovered from the shock and grabbed the third blaster carbine that was open.

The last three droids sprinted down the hallway stopping at the cell. They were met with four armed prisoners. A flurry of blaster bolts consumed them.

Starikov dusted off their shattered melted parts and checked both ends. The rest of the group followed suit.

Starikov then sprinted down the hallway slamming every cell release button in the building. The doors all smooshed open, their occupants strolling out. They all gathered and stared at Starikov for further instruction.

"Comrades," He began, "The time has come to rise up and crush your oppressor! They are lesser in number then us our revolution shall be victorious!"

Those words would've been daggers in Viktor's great great grandfather who served as an officer in the great war and in the white army. Those words would've made his great grandfather an officer in the Soviet Union during World War 2 from Stalingrad to Berlin proud. And his grand father had served in GRU Spetsnaz during the Soviet Afghan war. He may not be thrilled about the phrase as he formed a very cynical view of communism seeing how it all turned out when he came back from the war but he would commend Viktor on his unconventional warfare skills in raising resistance against an enemy.

Good old grand father Andrei Starikov had taught Viktor a great many things. His own father had been deployed constantly as an FSB operative though, Viktor hadn't known that when he was younger. So it had been Andrei who in whether intentional or unintentional had created a future Russian commando. If there was someone Viktor strived to prove himself to, it was his grandfather. The old man had been blessed to pass of natural causes before the nukes went off.

"We must seize the armory, and liberate our other comrades held in the other cell blocks!" Starikov proclaimed, "Onwards!"

Viktor had taken the time during the period of forced labor to count every individual guard and droid. In all there, were fifty with forty of that being Droids. There were hundreds of prisoners, Starikov liked those numbers. Niner had also spotted the armory. And right now the Trandoshan guards were resting leaving only a few to make sure the droids were doing their job.

The cell block saw a horde of prisoners barge from its doors through the courtyard. Everyone stayed completely silent. Some diverted to the other cell blocks to free the other prisoners. The rest followed behind Starikov towards the armory.

On duty were three droids in front. Starikov raised his blaster carbine. Five blaster bolts ripped from the carbine. The shots roared through the night. The bright red bolts struck each droid in the face plate.

Starikov then arrived in front of the armory and blasted the lock off. Everyone filed in. They marveled at the racks and shelves of blaster rifles,pistols, armored plates, and grenades. Starikov turned to one of the clones who wasn't armed. He through the blaster he'd taken from the droid at the clone, who caught it.

Then he snatched an A270 rifle that looked quite rustic from the shelf. It looked similar to an AKM but was all black. He didn't need to tell a bunch of grunts and commandos to stock up.

The group then charged over to the barracks. Mercs kept personal weapons on them at all times the armory was full of access gear. The barracks was left unguarded. Most likely the inhabitants weren't expecting much.

However Starikov wasn't sure who did it but an explosion cracked. The sound was a thunderous boom followed by mass blaster fire most likely at a bunch of droids. This broke out all over the camp.

The door at the entrance of the barracks flew open and a Transdoshan with wide eyes stood there. He was shocked to see the prisoners now heavily armed standing at his doorstep. Starikov sent a bright blaster bolt through the man's forehead. The shots screamed in the night.

The lizard man struck the ground with smoke rising up from his forehead.

"Charge!" Starikov shouted.

Battle cries exploded from the horde of prisoners as they used blaster butts to bash down the doors. On the other side two Transdoshans had drawn their blasters. They fired the bolts struck two prisoners in the chest. Rapid blaster fire then poored into the room both men had red bolts fly through every part of their bodies and then they hit the ground smoke rising from their bodies that were black as charcoal.

The Trandoshan with the scar was in his cot jolted from his bed at the explosive shouts of the mob that stormed the barracks. He went for his blaster pistol but wasn't fast enough as he saw clones storm his quarters. They seized his arms and through him down to the floor. The others in his room were also seized from their beds. He tried to use his claws to scratch at them but was kicked in his rib cage. Then they pounded him with the butts of their blasters.

Starikov burst into the room to see the mad lynch like attack. He fired a shot into the air causing everyone to cease.

"Do not kill the one with the scar," Said Starikov, "He contains valuable information I wish to extract slowly. But do with the others what you will."

The Transdoshans looked up into Starikov's cold cruel eyes and wicked smile. They found no mercy and their faces reflected distress knowing their fates were sealed.

Once he was back put side he saw that five Transdoshans and the Duro warden were standing in the courtyard hands over their heads. All the droids had been killed.

"The Duro shall come with us, kill the others and hang their bodies from the guard tower. Then we will leave. Follow me I know a place where we shall have refuge!" Starikov ordered.

The clones prepared their blasters until one held his hand up.

"Knives, use knives ammunition should be reserved for combat." He said.

This was to the distress of the Transdoshans. The clones brought knives and seized the Transdoshans. The knives were thrust into the lizard mens chests over and over again. Their blood splattered everywhere. They screamed like dying pigs before being left on the ground to bleed to death.

Viktor Starikov still with his cruel smile then watched as ropes were used to raise the dying Transdoshans up on the guard Tower. Blood droplets trickled down below them like rain drops.

The crowd cast out the carcasses of the dead Transdoshan mercenaries on the ground of the prison camp. They then cheered as seeing themselves as victorious. Niner saw their faces rejoice he hadn't known how long they'd been POWs before ending up here. But he shared in their joy and new just who to reward with praise.

"Star,Ri,Kov," he started to chant pumping his fist.

"Star,Ri, Kov." Darman joined in the chant.

Then Rex followed all pumping their fists while chanting Star! Ri! Kov! To a sustained beat. Gradually the rest of the group joined. Then Viktor Starikov saw everyone surround all in unison chanting Star! Ri! Kov! Star! Ri! Kov!

"Comrades!" He yelled having their attention, the crowd died done to here what they had to say, "We are not free yet, we must flee it will not take the CIS long to learn of our rebellion. Follow me we will hide the jungles and regroup with a force of commandos!"

Viktor Starikov then turned and walked past the tall gates of the prison. Behind him the former prisoners gathered holding their various blasters. No longer were they prisoner subjected to slavery now they had become an army. An army full of rage seeking vengeance against those who had sought to enslave them.


	7. Guerrilla mode part 4

Jackson Bolton sat in the back of a civilian transport shuttle. His hands covered with black gloves. His chest had a blaster resistant plate carrier over a black shirt. His face concealed behind a black balaclava.

The Null Arcs road with him. They'd chosen to engage each other in conversation. They'd been discussing how they'd execute the operation. Bolton already knew what he was going to do.

"Mr. Bolton," Said the One known as Ordo, "Out of curiosity, what is it exactly you plan on doing?"

"If I told you, there's the risk you could get captured. I've never seen you in action, if you are captured I don't know how well you'd resist torture. And I do not want my plan compromised. Focus on your part and I'll focus on mine."

Bolton's communicator then rang. He brought it out from under his sleeve and flipped it on.

"This Cody, air assault operations were a success, I repeat air assault operations have succeeded. Ready to proceed with aiding the insurgency."

"Very good commander, black operation component will be deployed in ten."

Bolton then cut the communication. Cody he'd learned was a very practical clone. Always carried out his orders efficiently and with out question. He was also very intelligent having sent suggestions for drop zones to Bolton that offered the paratroopers more stealth to maintain the element of surprise before they pounced. He was an excellent soldier, and while Bolton was running a covert organization, good soldiers were still needed. Jackson Bolton would remember that.

The shuttle landed with in a village secured by the paratroopers. Militia groups had also moved in to the territory not long after.

Bolton exited the shuttle the Null ARCs behind him. A speeder with a heavy blaster parked out in front men with masks and rustic looking blasters slung over their shoulders stood waiting.

The Atmosphere around Selecumi was grim. The clouds a dark grey cast that same shade on just about everything on the planet. That being said it was the perfect atmosphere for covert work.

"More Republic soldiers," Said one of the masked men, "It seems the fates are on our sides brothers."

"Boys this is where we split up," Said Bolton to the Nulls, "I trust you know what you're doing."

"We do." Replied Ordo.

"Good."

Bolton then hopped in the speeder with the insurgents and flew off. They got about five miles from the village before they stopped.

"Alright Jackson what's your plan." Said the Driver looking right at Bolton.

"We need to scout out the CIS Embassy I hear their selected governor will be there."

"I think I know what you're planning, I'd say it's like old times, but frankly it's nothing like old times. Save for the part where we're quote on quote assisting an insurgency."

"Just get a move on Corvinus, we don't have time for pointless banter."

"Now, it really is like old times."

Viktor Starikov found himself deep in the jungle lands of Felucia a few hundred liberated prisoners behind him. His looks had drastically changed over the course of the mission. His hair was now in a wild mess. It had been a few days since he'd shaved so his facial hair had also grown widely.

He'd rolled up the sleeves on his grey Jack to better handle the heat. His grey baseball cap had disappeared, discarded when the Transdoshans captured him.

His weapon was now a rustic looking AC280 the barrel of which was cold. Behind him Niner strolled missing his katarn class commando armor. Now he only had a small plastoid breastplate he'd stolen from the armory. His state of the art DC17M blaster carbine had been lost in favor for a more primitive carbine carried by trandoshan irregulars. In all it was a lot lighter but he still wanted protection. Darman the demolitions expert had stolen a rocket launcher but his gear was mostly the same.

Then ARC trooper Rex who hadn't seen action behind enemy lines till this day had decided to carry the lightest gear. This of course was so he could have greater maneuverability. He'd stolen a mercenaries camouflage jacket and wore no protective armor. He'd then chosen a rather small blaster carbine seized from a battle droid. He'd also selected two rustic looking blaster pistols. But that was all he chose to pack.

"Hold!" Starikov said holding a fist in the air, "We shall rest here for thirty minutes, as I take a second to think about what direction to take."

So everyone save for a few troopers who stood guard sat and took a few seconds to drink water or eat rations they'd stolen. Starikov stood as he contemplated their next move. In truth getting to the original Rendezvous point was impossible with out a map. Starikov had never been there meaning he had no method to get there.

"Where to sir?" Questioned Rex.

"Rex, I'll be honest, I do not know where to go," said Viktor Starikov, "Nor do I know how long we would be able to harass the enemy force. And the last unknown is when Republic force or rather if it will break through. I hate to admit but we're fucked."

"What if we identify their leaders and kill them perhaps-" Darman began.

"We'll still have to deal with thousands of droids who are being directed from some fat nomadien in orbit." Niner interrupted, "Damn it Starikov you're right."

"Niner, I'm never wrong," Starikov replied, "I say if we're going to die, we go out with a huge bang! We raid the nearby villages slaughter everything. Steal a bunch of explosions then we set up an ambush draw a very large force of droids in. Then shouting Yippee Ki yay Mother fu-"

"Sir,"

Starikov stopped his overview for a final stand. He turned to meet a clone soldier who had a worn out look in his eyes. However, he still remained in an upright posture and his senses seemed sharp.

"I may have a solution." The trooper said.

"Got a name trooper?" Niner Questioned.

"Bly, former commander marshal three hundred twenty seventh legion."

"Hear that, we've got a commander boys. Now I'm only a Captain, Niner you're a sergeant, and Rex you're an NCO right."

"What's an NCO?"

"Besides the point we are in the presence of a senior officer of the GAR," Said Starikov, "Let the good commander sit, clearly a man of his stature must have some intelligent knowledge to impart."

"I arrived planet side with the 327th, our objective was to infact break through CIS lines and evacuate the commando squad that was pinned, it obviously did not go how we planned it to. However we managed to secure ourselves a base to the north. I'm confident they're still holding. I can get us back there and we can evacuate everyone off world, for relief."

Starikov thought for a few seconds. Getting everyone to safety was good. But he also knew out there somewhere Wilson Taylor,Micheal Gabriels,fucking Joel, Delta Squad, and Squad 7 were still working. It pained him to leave them. It was a genuine pain not just because Bolton would kill him for losing three contractors. Though that man was certainly a motivator.

"Commander Marshal I still have men out there in the jungle. I can not abandon them. You can lead the expedition back to base yes?"

"Sir with all due respect, I got captured hundreds of men died in the process. I shouldn't be responsible for leading these men back. We can go with you after the others."

However Starikov looked out on the horizon many men would die before they found the rest. He'd gotten these men out of prison he couldn't do it just to send them to hell. And Starikov could tell whatever happened to Bly still had its impact. He wouldn't be an effective leader at this precise moment.

"No, it is far to risky, we shall go back, then I shall return." Starikov said, "Get the two prisoner, we need to map out CIS territory. They have Intel."

The Transdoshan with the scar and the Duro were forced on their knees in front of Viktor Starikov. The Elite Russian commando took out a knife.

"You have seen just what I am willing to do to those who have wronged me. I will do the same to you. Unless of course you cooperate and provide me with the intel I ask for. The choice is yours. But in ten minutes I shall kill both of you if your choice does not satisfy me."

The Duro and the Transdoshan stared at one another. It was clear there was only one answer for mercenaries who only wanted profit out of this conflict.

Wilson Taylor had discarded his balaclava finding the damn thing unbearable after his long stent in the jungle. And concealing his identity wasn't a concern as of now. This revealed his stern face with eyes green as a well kept army uniform.

He leaned his back against the cave wall. There was not much to do while Fixer tinkered with the tactical droids head, combing it for valuable Intel.

"Taylor," Said Alpha 17, "I just got a communication from command. Apparently they've landed troops. Also apparently they're pinned down by artillery guns hidden in the jungle. They want to know if we've got eyes on them."

"Fixer, I don't suppose you were able to acquire coordinates for concealed artillery guns out of that droid's head, were you?" Questioned Taylor.

"No coordinates sir," Replied Fixer, "But I've got recordings of radio chatter in the droids memory. Mostly commando droids, they're apparently patrolling around these guns. Setting up ambush points to repulse clone forces that attempt to pinpoint the guns."

Wilson thought for a second. If they could sabotage those guns republic forces could advance. So that's where his focus shifted ignoring the fact Bolton's resupply hadn't arrived yet.

"Fixer, do you think it would be possible to tap into their com links from that droid's head, so we could pinpoint where these droids are based on pings."

"We would need the ability to properly track communication pings. Meaning one of us would need to smuggle me and the droids brain to the Republic side. Since they could ping the communication chatter on a radar."

Wilson nodded as he thought for a second. He figured he could get all of that done on his own. But he also knew a little bit of extra muscle never hurt. It was essentially an escort mission.

"Alright, Alpha you're in charge until I return, Fordo you and Ranger on me. We'll escort Scorch."

The Alpha class Arc trooper with Red outlines was up fast. Quickly the other ARC trooper with green outlines followed holding a DC17 carbine.

"Taylor," Said Joel, "As mission commander are you sure you want to take off again. This could be a lengthy mission. And let's not forget conventional forces don't know contractors are on the ground."

Joel actually had a point. They'd already broken a lot of Bolton's pre mission conditions. Interactions with conventional forces could reveal much more about their activities then either Bolton or Director Zey for that matter wanted.

"Hate to say it, but your right," Replied Wilson, "Alright Fordo you're in charge of the escort op."

Fordo simply nodded. Scorch then stood up and the three clones sprinted out of the cave. Taylor watched as they went off.

It felt off to not charge out and lead the operation. That's how he had always done things in the past. Even on earth during black ops in the second cold war before it went hot. Wilson prided himself on copying on of his personal models Alexander the great and leading from the front. He also enjoyed the thrill of combat, the adrenaline boost he got from it. Yet he always did what was best for the team and then mission and then himself.

In this case that meant sitting back and simply waiting for things to happen. To choose to simply trust the clones could complete the mission and return with out issues.

Taylor heard the crisp sound of his communicator chime in. Quickly he pressed his ear piece where it was hooked up to.

"Callsign Ace on the line." He said unsure who had his line.

"Are you the Terran contractor," A clone said over the line.

Wilson took a second to think. Bolton had said supplies and men were coming in. Perhaps this was it.

"Yes," He replied, "Who's this?"

"This Commander Blitz," The Voice replied, "Director Zey has sent me with three battalions of specialized troops to assist your operation. We've got supplies I need coordinates for the drop point."

Wilson Taylor nodded as if he could see this its. He looked to Alpha and Boss.

"Coordinates for drop?" He asked them.

"I'd place it within a few miles north of here," Suggested Boss, "But it's your decision, sir."

"I'd do as Boss says, the CIS may notice boxes of guns and amou a long with soldiers wearing jetpacks raining down in the jungle." Alpha replied, "Don't want droids on our base of operations."

"Alright I need a geographic feature a few miles north, because if there's a CIS out post nearby we'll find ourselves in a firefight." Said Taylor.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Alpha replied.

Having recovered from his wounds and not wanting to be useless Fi examined the maps. He looked a few clicks north.

"There's a forest mountain ten clicks north and ten from their we're looking at a fortified village," Said Fi, "So if we take our time collecting supplies it'll be one hell of a fire fight."

"Ten clicks is a bit far to be lugging gear, I need a point half that distance."

Fi nodded looked back down and traced the gridded map which projected from his palm. He saw a stream in open grassland near farms. No enemy fortifications were marked. He trusted ARF well enough to know they mapped out all enemy positions. However if mercenaries were near that location they'd be taking a risk. But then again mercenaries could've been lurking anywhere else.

"45703 North and 57499 West." Said Fi, "There's no cover but no known nearby hostiles. There are however farmers who'll get quite the surprise."

"No," Said Alpha a bit sarcastically, "You don't think soldiers and guns raining from the sky is a normal occurrence."

After a few chuckles Wilson was quick to transfer the coordinates. Then he cut the communication and turned to the rest of his force. He still had Delta squad plus three ARCs. The two commandos who'd been rescued seemed to be recovering well from medical treatment. Though the pilots arm was in a makeshift sling. He'd just have to be on his own for a bit.

"Alright all available hands on deck, we've got a lot of gear to move back here and not a lot of time to do it. So anyone who's got function of two arms and two legs it's time to earn you're damn pay."

"What pay?" Said Fi.

"Don't you guys have wages?" Questioned Wilson.

"No."

That wasn't surprising seeing as how they were clones and how the media portrayed them as organic droids. But still slightly disappointing.

"Alright we'll hold a labor union after this op, but for now let's move, Bolton hopefully sent me a replacement HK416 and ain't no one gonna keep me from it!"

Everyone in the speeder was silent as it crept into the CIS occupied capital on Selecumi. Droids made terrible counter insurgency operatives. They checked Bolton and John for guns but didn't adequately search the speeder.

So as they pulled up to the new CIS embassy which was under gaurd by six battle droids. It was no problem drawing AK47s from compartments all over the vehicle.

The doors on the speeder flew open. The six droids stopped and raised their blasters. AK47 fire cracked before the droids could pull their triggers.

Big 7.75 mm bullets tore through the droids. The gunfire shouted. The Terran contractors squeezed down the triggers on their guns allowing for full auto gunfire to blare. Their genetic enhancements made it easy to control.

The droids became piles of scrap metal in mere seconds. Then wearing balaclavas that made them appear as insurgents they charged up the stairs of the embassy.

The doors to the embassy flew open. The CIS representatives including the appointed governor were talking with a Selecumi representative that Grievous had chosen. The representing was a twi'lek who'd surrendered the second the CIS army set foot on his farm.

Bolton saw security droids. John turned his gun on them and ten bullets ripped from the gun. Bullets flew through the droids sending metal shards and sparks flying.

Bolton then fired a burst in the air. All the non combatants hit the ground hands over their head.

Bolton then walked over to the Twi'lek who was quivering. His boot next to the man's head.

"Traitor!" He shouted.

Three shots echoed through the embassy. Blood splattered across Bolton. Then the other mercs quickly grabbed the CIS representatives by their arms and pulled then up. John then charged out in front.

Outside battle droids were on their way. The mechanical soldiers froze as they saw CIS representatives come out first.

Gunshots shouted. The droids all collapsed to the ground full of holes. Bolton and the other mercs stood behind the representatives and shoved the representatives with their guns. After forcing them into the speeder Bolton and John with the other mercs took off. Screams of bystanders echoed throughout the street as people ran in a chaotic fashion.


	8. Status update

**This has indeed been a very fun and interesting project, however as I continue I have the burning need to do something different with the story and its arcs. So I've decided to end this version of the story so I can pursue those ideas. However it should be noted I am working on two versions of the story 1 based in a legends AU and the other based in a cannon AU. The legends AU story is under the name Contractors under Games/star wars category on this site. It serves as kind of a test server to experiment with different characters and story ideas. In other words it's me having fun with it. The cannon AU story is going to hopefully be the best possible product I can produce with this story and be more refined. It's not released yet, as I said I want it to be more refined and feel closer to a novel if that makes sense.As such I'm doing research and practice to move in that direction, like reading books with settings and writing small scenes that have the tone I'm going for. However I have also considered in the meantime doing small spin offs like a Jackson Bolton story that would be set before the clone wars. Possibly a federation war story as well that's basically a Terran vs Trade federation story. However take both of those with a grain of salt, unless you feel passionate enough about either one of those to leave a comment that attempts to persuade me to do it. In any case I will leave this story up until I feel the first chapter of the cannon story is ready to be released then I'll delete this story shortly after the new version is posted. Thoughts in regards feel free to leave a comment.****-Temujin The obliterator**


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